On the Run
by Lyndotia
Summary: Jordan Yazebel is just a normal sixteen year old. Except for the fact that she's a hunter with no family left except for her best friend, Lyn. She hustles pool, loves mullet rock, and can fix up cars. Her life is already crazy, but on one hunt, it changes
1. Demon on the Rise

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Jordan: Hey peoples! So! NEW STORY!! We're still gonna write Endurance, but this idea just got in my head and I wanted to write it… 'Nuff said! XD

Me: Amen to that. -lol-

Jordan: Remember, ladies and gents, review are like HONEY BUNCHES OF OATS!

Me: Wow… You are so addicted…

Jordan: Yup! -crunch-

Me: And yeah… I kind of have strep and I've had a fever all day… the highest point of which was almost 104… so any blatant randomness should be blamed on that, mkay? Mkay.

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**Chapter One – Demon on the Rise**

Stairway to Heaven blasted from the speakers of a red 1959 Chevy Impala. A girl of sixteen lay under the car, and presently she was yelling, "Lyn!"

"Yeah, Jordan?" answered the nineteen-year-old with a long, dark brown braid as she brushed back a loose strand of hair that had been sticking to her forehead.

"My back hurts," Jordan complained, then pulled herself out from under the car and brushed her jeans off. "Just thought I would tell you."

She smirked and turned the music down. Jordan was an average teenager. Well, except for the fact that she was a hunter who loved mullet rock and knew how to fix cars. She was currently wearing a black Led Zeppelin tour shirt and a pair of dark-wash jeans with combat boots.

"Oh, yeah, I definitely needed to know that," Lyn muttered, rolling her black-flecked green eyes. "Especially considering I have yet to regain full mobility in my neck from having strep last week… Which I blame you for, just because…"

"Whatever…"

Jordan grabbed a soda from the cooler in the back seat of her car. After opening it and taking a long sip, she leaned against her car. There was a few seconds of silence, and then she said, "Come on, let's haul ass. We gotta get to a motel. I really don't wanna sleep in my car again. Love her to death, but she's not the most comfortable place to sleep."

"You really gotta learn to function on less sleep, y'know," Lyn advised, heaving a sigh before wincing and cracking her neck. "And I've really gotta learn to refuse to go on hunts while I'm still getting over strep… Which I definitely blame you for…"

Jordan rolled her gold-specked brown eyes and, while getting ready to leave, asked, "Oh, come on! How is it _my_ fault!?"

"I dunno how my getting strep is your fault," Lyn admitted, "but it's definitely your fault that I'm here. I mean, I threw a shoe at Jay for asking the same thing when I was getting over the flu last year… I should definitely kick you or something…"

Jordan just laughed and got into her car. "Let's just get going. I'm tired and I really wanna get this job done so we can have a little R and R time."

"R and R for you, maybe," Lyn said with a sigh as she all but collapsed into the passenger seat. "I'm still stressing over that calculus final… _Why_ I had to get strep on the week I had three finals…"

"You'll do great on the final. Like you always do. 'Cause you're a geek." Jordan grinned at her and stepped on the gas pedal, speeding off to the nearest motel.

Lyn just shrugged, closed her eyes against the light, and murmured, "Who wants to be cool when geeks rule the world…?"

* * *

"Dude! That was Bobby!" Dean yelled at Sam through the bathroom door. "He says there's word of a new demon – more powerful than anything we've ever seen. He wants us to find it!"

Sam came out, a towel wrapped around his waist. "Okay… Did he give us any leads? Anybody who might know where to find it?"

"Yup… He's been tracking it for a while now. It's heading to Duluth, Minnesota."

"And that's supposed to help us how?" Sam asked exasperatedly. "I mean, there are a lot of people in Duluth, Dean."

"He said that one of his informants told him the car it's driving," Dean said with a grin.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay… Just let me get dressed. I'll meet you at the car."

Dean grabbed his duffel and walked out of the motel room, slamming the door behind him. Sam sighed and grabbed his clothes.


	2. Of Random Exorcisms and Holy Water

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: So yeah… I went to the hospital, and I don't have strep, mono, or any problem they can find in my blood. But now I do have a blown vein in my left hand because it took three tries and two different punctures for them to draw blood. So yeah, that was a _really_ productive hospital visit…

Jordan: Yeah, evil… but remember, y'all, reviews equal love – and Honey Bunches of Oats! -crunch-

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**Chapter Two – Of Random Exorcisms and Holy Water**

"Oh, thank you, God!" Jordan pulled into a motel parking lot and looked over at Lyn, who was asleep.

She smirked and got out of the car. The blaring of a car horn was heard seconds later.

Lyn jumped and shot bolt upright, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling of the car. The next second, she had pulled a knife from the thigh pocket of her pants and was gazing around suspiciously. Then she finally realized what had happened, put away the knife, and glared daggers at Jordan. "I'm gonna freaking kill you, you know that, right?"

Jordan couldn't contain her laughter at Lyn's reaction, so to prevent her own murder, she choked out, "I'm gonna get a room! Be right back!"

She then ran up the front desk and used one of her many fake ID's and her skill at flirting to get a room.

"That dude was so easy!" Jordan giggle-snorted.

"Yeah, yeah, just be careful and don't be too easy yourself…"

* * *

"See anything on that side, Sammy?" Dean looked to the left, while Sam looked over on the right.

"It's Sam… and no. Are you sure Bobby's sources are reliable?"

"One hundred percent."

"Okay… Dean! Stop! Turn here! 1959 Impala, right?" Sam said.

"Yeah." Dean turned into a motel parking lot and there sat one of the most beautiful cars he had ever seen – next to his own, of course. "Wow… that car is sweet!"

He parked the car and got out, his eyes glued to the car. He wolf-whistled it and ran his hand down the side.

"Dean, seriously!? This is a demon's car. Focus!"

"Okay, hands off the vehicle, please," Lyn said with a rather annoyed sigh as she walked out into the parking lot with a maglite in one hand and the keys to Jordan's car in the other. "It's a pain to get those smudges off, y'know…"

Dean and Sam both looked up to the source of the noise and their eyes narrowed when they saw Lyn. Dean looked around and, when he saw nobody, advanced on Lyn, pinning her to a nearby car.

"What in the name of Axl Rose do you freaking think you're doing!?" Lyn demanded, slamming the flashlight hard into his ribs before having her arm crushed against the car. "Get your hands off me before I remove them the hard way, perv!"

"You think I'm gonna _let_ you go!?" Dean shot back incredulously, pushing her arm and body against the car so tightly that she couldn't move a muscle. "What's your name!? You in cahoots with ol' yellow eyes!?"

"And _you_ think I'm gonna tell you my freaking _name_?" Lyn retorted, glaring daggers at him since she presently couldn't reach any of the actual ones she had hidden on her person. "I don't think so, jerk face. Kill me if you're gonna, but you're not getting my family name until right before they do the same to you."

"Is this car yours!?" Dean demanded. When Lyn didn't answer, he pressed a gun against her neck. "_Is it yours_!?"

Lyn chuckled darkly, still giving Dean a cold sneer. "Don't insult my intelligence – I could tell you I drive a freaking Volkswagen and it wouldn't make any dadgum difference, we both know that. Jeez, you demons are some screwed up creatures. Just kill me already, you ugly imbecile."

Dean sneered, too, at that. "Me? A demon? Nice try. Cristo."

He watched Lyn's eyes. Nothing, unless you counted the continued death glaring. He started to recite an exorcism: "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio…"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait – hold on a second, here," Lyn interrupted, her right eyebrow raising suspiciously. "You're a _hunter_?" She blinked once, then suddenly exploded: "WHY THE CRAP ARE YOU FREAKING TACKLING ME INTO CARS, YOU DADBURNED MORON!? I'M NOT A DEMON!"

Dean looked back at Sam, who shrugged. But before Dean could release Lyn, Jordan suddenly appeared behind Sam with a knife at his throat.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch, or I swear you'll be saying sayonara to your buddy here."

Dean pulled the gun back and released his grip on Lyn.

"That's a good boy… Now move away…"

Dean walked backwards until he was about five feet away, and Jordan released Sam and shoved him toward Dean.

"What the hell do you sons of bitches think you're doing!? You don't just come attacking people! Not only did she do nothing to warrant it… but you draw attention to yourselves! Idiots…" Jordan huffed.

"Seriously, how long have you been hunters, two days!?" Lyn demanded, gripping her flashlight so hard that her knuckles turned white and giving Dean a look that wished him a slow and painful death. "Or is going back to the car to find the wallet which you lost in it somehow now a demonic omen and we just completely missed that memo!?"

"Wait, what now? You think she's a _demon_…? Idiots…" Jordan rolled her eyes.

"Oh, wait, I got it," Lyn said suddenly in a sarcastic imitation of her this-is-obvious tone. "It's the blue maglite, right? Tch, yeah, I knew I should've gotten the red one…"

Dean looked over at Sam and cautiously said, "We got information that said someone knew a demon was going to be here, and driving this car. I mean, it's pretty unique… and gorgeous. Where'd you get her fixed up?"

Jordan looked from her car to Dean. "I fixed it myself. What, I'm a girl and so you automatically assume that I went to an auto repair shop and paid an arm and a leg for something that can easily be done with a little elbow grease?"

"Right, 'cause you did that all by yourself and I didn't help at all, huh, JJ? … Anyway, consider yourself lucky they didn't think you were a freaking demon," Lyn growled. "Flipping jerkoffs… And I thought Jay was the king of jumping to conclusions…"

Dean looked over to Sam, and Sam looked at Jordan.

"Oh, hell, no," Jordan said exasperatedly.

"Gotta make sure," Sam muttered, then pulled out a flask of holy water, which he flicked at Lyn and then at Jordan.

Jordan's skin stung a little bit where the holy water hit, and she side-glanced at Lyn, who seemed unaffected.

"Cristo?" Dean said – well, really more like asked.

There was a slight pain in Jordan's stomach, and she bit her lip, confused.

"Well, thanks for the free holy water shower, morons, but I believe I've already said, oh, a half dozen times that we're not demons," Lyn said impatiently as she brushed a spot off her face, apparently without having noticed Jordan's uneasiness. "We're _hunters_. Not demons, not witches, not spirits or vampires or idgets who throw random people into cars and douse them in holy water, all right?"

Jordan composed herself and asked, "Okay, you two fools satisfied yet!?"

"Yeah… But we're a little confused as to why neither one of you is a demon. We got a tip from a friend that one of you is supposed to be a demon," Sam said.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Jordan muttered, walking over to the car and opening the passenger door. After searching under both front seats, she finally yelled, "Aha! This what you were looking for?"

She held up Lyn's wallet with a smug smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Lyn said with a sigh. "Would've found it twenty minutes ago, but I was a little busy getting pinned to a car and having those yankee carpetbaggers over there attempt to exorcise a non-existent demon… I still say we should knock 'em upside the head so maybe they learn not to jump random people…"

"That would be satisfying," Jordan muttered, trailing off.

"How old are you? You both look so young! Where're your parents? Aren't they worried about you?" Sam spouted off questions like a hose.

Jordan winced and looked away, and Lyn turned to glare at Sam with the same fierce look she had given Dean earlier.

"I'm Lyn, I'm nineteen, I've been in college for three years and my family have been hunters for three generations, so I'm perfectly capable of going on a hunt by myself, thank you kindly," she said coldly. "My mother's a drunk and my father's an epileptic since he got the top of his head cut off and then sewed back on when I was a kid. So, no, they're not particularly worried.

"My grandparents might have been – seeing as they're the ones who raised my cousins and me, and because obviously I wouldn't have been there to wash the dishes or feed the critters for a couple of days – but they're dead, as are Jordan's parents. My cousins are the most decent people left in my family, and they don't worry because they know I can freaking take care of myself. Oh, and Jordan's sixteen, by the way. Any other burning questions, or would you like to accuse me of being a demon again?" she finished with a highly sarcastic smile.

"Uh… no…" Sam looked over at Dean.

"Well, about freaking time you admitted it," Lyn grumbled, casting around dark looks.

Jordan cleared her throat. "This is, uh… awkward… So… You've heard all about us. Mostly. What about you two?"

Dean spoke up, "I'm Dean, and I'm twenty-three, and he's Sam, and he's nineteen."

"That's… descriptive," Jordan said slowly.

Lyn shrugged. "Who the crap cares, as long as they quit freaking trying to exorcise random people? Or else just go do it somewhere else. Get yourselves shipped off to the loony bin for all I care, but leave Jordan and me out of it."

"I'm gonna go get us a room, Sammy," Dean said, walking off toward the front desk.

"It's Sam," Sam murmured under his breath.

Jordan smirked and leaned against her car. Lyn rolled her eyes. "Ah, yes, the curse of being younger," she muttered darkly. "But trust me, it's better than 'Lyndi,' my cousins still call me that. And definitely better than Lyndotia. What the crap my mother was smoking when I was born, I'll never know…"

She shook her head. "Anyway, JJ, let's make tracks. I gotta call Alex and make sure I didn't miss anything in those last ten minutes of Dr. Varisan's ranting on how pathetic everyone else in the world but him – and _especially_ in my class – is at differential equations…"

Jordan opened and closed her mouth a few times before saying, "Yeah… uh, sure." She had spaced out, thinking about her recent encounter with the holy water.

Sam noticed her uneasiness and wrinkled his eyebrows.

Lyn frowned. "Jordan? Don't go spazzing on me, now. You get strep, too, while we're all the way out here, and I'll kick you. Well, after you get better, anyway… I'm not as evil as you, throwing shoes at people when they have a hundred and three and a half temperature…"

"Lyn… can we just go back to the room? I'm not feeling well at all…" Jordan glanced at Sam and then at Dean, who was just coming back from the front desk.

Sam had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. _Something's not right about her…_

"All right," Lyn said slowly, right eyebrow raising slightly. Then she added quickly, "But I swear, if you get sick after you dragged me out here while _I'm_ still half sick, I'll kill you…"

Jordan grabbed the room key from Lyn's hand and hurried off to their room.

"She okay?" Dean asked, wrinkling his brow and looking at Sam and Lyn questioningly.

"If she isn't, she sure ain't gonna be when I kill her for getting sick," Lyn muttered, though she was also pretty sure that wasn't what was wrong. Jordan wasn't acting sick, she was acting shifty.

Shrugging, Lyn walked off after Jordan, still frowning. As an afterthought, she waved a hand toward the guys without turning around. She wasn't very concerned with them at the moment, she just wanted to know why Jordan was acting weird…

"That was… odd? Come on… Let's go to our room."

Dean started off for their room, shortly followed by a very confused – and slightly suspicious – Sam.


	3. Enlightenment

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: So yeah, we actually wrote most of this yesterday, only it needed like a couple paragraphs… and so yeah…

Jordan: And yeah, reviews are awesome, remember…

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**Chapter Three – Enlightenment**

Jordan lay face-down on the floor between the two queen beds in the motel room.

"JJ?" Lyn asked quietly after making sure that she had closed and locked the door. "Jordan? … Something's up, and it's not strep. What's the matter?"

Jordan mumbled something into the carpet and groaned.

Lyn frowned and sat down cross-legged beside her friend. "Look, Jordan… You're worrying me. You're never this quiet, and you missed a great chance to annoy the hound out of me a minute ago. That's not you. _What's wrong_?"

Jordan sat up, and there were tears visible on her flushed cheeks. "There's something wrong with me… something _very_ wrong…"

The crease between Lyn's eyebrows deepened and was joined by several more creases on her forehead. Slowly, almost cautiously, she asked, "What do you mean… 'wrong'…?"

"When Sam threw that little bit of holy water on us… and when Dean said… it… My skin stung, and I got a pain in my stomach." Jordan's voice shook. "I'm a demon… I didn't even know! They've come to kill _me_! They didn't get their information wrong!"

Lyn turned slightly pale, but it was definitely a show of good faith that she didn't reach for a knife. For a long moment, she was silent, and then she said in a faint voice, "Maybe – maybe it was a coincidence. You don't know… You don't know that, it doesn't prove anything. Maybe it just stung because it was cold. Maybe you just had a stomach cramp. You don't know, Jordan, you can't just say something like that!" she concluded, speaking faster the longer she went on.

"Lyn… cristo…" Jordan's stomach pain was worse than last time, which made her wince and hold her abdomen. She reached for her duffel bag, where she always kept a flask of holy water, and sprinkled a bit on her skin. It made a hissing sound, and it felt to Jordan as if someone was taking a knife to her.

"Stop it," Lyn hissed, grabbing Jordan's wrist and pulling it away. Her eyes were frightened but determined as they met her friend's. "Listen to me, Jordan. We've been friends for a long time. We've been _hunters_ for a long time. You can't just… Jordan, you can't be a demon."

Lyn wasn't trying to rationalize any more; no, she now was definitely in denial.

Jordan looked up at Lyn. "I'm scared… I mean, Lyn, what if I am!? They should kill me if I am. I don't want to hurt anybody. I mean, you know me. I know me. But, I could become something else altogether. I could hurt _you_. I can't let myself become what we hurt every day… I won't let it happen." There was matched determination and fear in her eyes as she looked back at Lyn.

"You're not," Lyn said, shaking her head. "You're not gonna. I don't care, Jordan. I don't give a freaking crap, all right?" she demanded a little more loudly, abruptly standing up and turning to face a wall. "I've lost enough family, enough friends. I'm not just backing down and accepting it this time." She shook her head and said through gritted teeth, "_I'm_ not letting it happen again."

Jordan bit back tears, too, as she stood up and moved to stand next to Lyn. "I'm not seeing a whole lot of options here! There are two hunters outside, and they're hell-bent on killing a demon – me! And they're ready to kill me, regardless of anything you or I may say! Believe me, Lyn, I don't wanna die… I really don't. But what if I turn into something…"

Exasperatedly, she cried out. "Do you want me to become a hazard to _everything and anything_ around me!?"

Lyn's voice was hoarse and bordering on cracking as she asked, "Do you want _me_ to?"

Her expression was fierce and her jaw set when she suddenly turned on her heel to face Jordan, but her normally sharp green eyes had an almost broken look in them that was only reflected by welling tears. "Maybe you are a demon. Maybe the muscle-for-brain twins out there were looking for you. You expect me to just stand aside? Again? Granny, Nicole, Enisi… Kyle?" Her voice broke, then, and it didn't recover its usual strength as she went on. "Jordan, Nicole didn't even know what she was dying for, and Kyle… Kyle was just a blasted fool for thinking I'd be fine without him. And now you think exactly the same thing, like you weren't even there. I'm not standing by this time, Jordan, and you're out of your freaking mind if you think I'm just gonna let you walk over there and, for all intents and purposes, commit suicide."

Jordan sighed and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Okay. I'm sorry. I'm just freaking out here… I mean… What am I gonna do…?"

Finally, Jordan let the tears slide down her cheeks before walking over to one of the beds and collapsing on it, face buried in a pillow.

"You're gonna sleep," Lyn said quietly, sitting down on the other bed and facing the door so that Jordan couldn't see the tears streaking her own face. "Or you're gonna at least pretend to, and so am I. It's dark now, and your friends out there are still hanging around. They don't know how long we've been here, we'll just pull out in the morning and if they come after us… Well, I still have a few strings left to pull among hunters these days…"

Yet, however sure she tried to sound, something told her it wouldn't be quite that simple.

"Okay… 'Night, Lyn…" Jordan felt under her pillow for the knife that she always kept there… thinking that, one day, _she_ could be something like a werewolf or a vengeful spirit… something hunted.


	4. An Early Morning Conversation

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: So hola. We live!

Jordan: Yeah, we actually wrote half of this chapter last night but couldn't finish it…

Me: But now we have finished it! And are plotting for further chapterness! So yeah!

Jordan: So review! XD

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**Chapter Four – An Early-Morning Conversation**

_Jordan sat up in bed, feeling strangely not tired. It was so dark that she couldn't see anything in front of her. There was a muffled scream coming from the bed next to her. When it suddenly ceased, the stony silence took its place. Jordan shot up in bed, grabbed the knife from under her pillow, and leaned her hand on Lyn's bed, whispering, "Lyn? Are you okay?"_

_The only reply was an audible squish._

_With shaking hands, Jordan groped around for the light, and it came on with a click. "LYN!?"_

_Lyn was lying in her bed, which had soaked up the blood from her deep neck wound. Her eyes were staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, so glassy that it was hard to make out their natural green hue._

_Something grabbed her shoulder. "Whaddya say we get rid of the body, huh?"_

_There in front of Jordan stood… herself. Covered in Lyn's blood, and with solid black eyes, leering to reveal teeth that looked like they had been sharpened. Jordan let out an ear-piercing scream._

Jordan shot up in bed, still screaming. Beads of sweat mingled with tears tricked down her already flushed face.

"Shh, shh, shh -- calm down, JJ," Lyn said quietly, her silhouette barely visible in the near darkness as she put a hand gently on Jordan's shoulder. "You've been having a nightmare, I couldn't wake you up. You okay?"

Jordan's breath came unevenly and heavily. "N-n-nightmare? It… wasn't real? Oh, God!"

She abruptly threw her arms around Lyn and started crying into her shoulder.

Lyn was rather shocked by the sudden action, but hugged her friend, anyway. "JJ… Jordan… It's okay. You're just stressed, I have horrible nightmares when I'm stressed…"

"God… I thought you were dead. You were dead. So much blood…" After a few moments, Jordan pulled back and wiped the tears off her face. "I'm… gonna go to the bathroom. Take a cold shower."

"All right," Lyn agreed, though there was a deep crease between her eyebrows. "I can't sleep anyway, maybe I'll get my European history book… read for a while…" She sighed, then attempted to make a joke, as per usual when she had no idea what to say. "But if you start screaming again while you're in there, screw the rules of etiquette – the rules of hunters come first."

Jordan attempted to smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. She walked into the bathroom with a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a form-fitting black t-shirt.

The click of the lock was heard, followed by the sound of the shower running a few seconds later.

Lyn had been reading for about five minutes when there was a shave-and-a-haircut knock on the door, followed by muffled arguing.

Her right eyebrow raised, and she immediately let the book fall to the bed and pulled the knife from under her own pillow. She found it odd that she was actually vaguely amused by the sound; she wasn't sure whether she should check the door or yell 'two bits!'

Being already barefoot, Lyn's feet made no sound on the floor. There was no spyhole on the door; she made a mental note to never rent a room without one again, it was really pretty stupid for a hunter. Grimacing, she pocketed the knife and grabbed the nine millimeter off her bedside table before suddenly sliding back the deadbolt and throwing the door open as far as the six-inch chain attached to it would allow.

"Hey there, sunshine! Did you sleep well?"

Dean seemed unusually chipper, while Sam just stood there, not looking happy at all.

"Jeez – do you freaking jerks have a death wish or something?" Lyn growled through the door, lowering the weapon slightly but still not putting it away or unhooking the chain on the door.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Come on… Let us in. We just want to tell you guys about a hunt. And make you an offer. We think you should consider it. It would benefit us all."

Sam, once again, didn't say anything, but had a permanent 'bitch face.'

"Yeaaah," Lyn said slowly, nodding in mock agreeance. "I should really just put my gun away and let two random guys into my motel room at six o'clock in the morning. _I don't think so_. See, I don't seem to recall any law which states that not being a demon automatically assures that you're trustworthy. And need I remind you that you freaking tried to kill me, moron?"

Dean leaned his forehead on the door. "Fine, I'll talk through the door. We caught wind of a demon. Not far from here. Nasty son of a bitch. It's killed ten people so far, and it's only been a week. Imagine what could happen if we let it keep killing people. According to our friend Bobby, we need as much help as we can get. He's gonna meet us at a motel there. We could really use your help."

Lyn scoffed and raised an eyebrow. "This the same friend who talked you into putting a gun to my head and trying to exorcise me?"

"Look, this goes beyond you and any disagreement you have with me. This is about dozens of people who may die if we don't kill this thing!"

Dean actually looked angry, but Lyn's gaze only hardened, and her voice came out in a low hiss. "Excuse me if I've seen too many people die by stupid mistakes and am somewhat _reluctant_ to listen to someone who already tried to kill me and, quite frankly, has no business knowing what room I'm in to start with. I guess I just have this fatal flaw called a survival instinct."

Before Dean could answer, Jordan came out of the bathroom. Upon seeing Lyn standing with gun drawn, she asked cautiously, "Lyn, who's at the door?"

Sam's interest was suddenly piqued and he pushed himself off the wall.

"Idgets from yesterday," Lyn answered in an annoyed sort of voice. "Dude who tried to kill me now apparently thinks we're trustworthy enough to invite along on a hunt." She paused here to smirk before adding, "Don't that just make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?"

Jordan appeared beside Lyn, a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Heh… yeah… What kind of hunt?"

"A demon… it's killed ten people in a week. But… your friend refuses to see anything other than herself," Dean answered, throwing a half smug and half dirty look at Lyn.

Jordan looked right at Sam. He seemed to know everything. It scared the hell out of her, made her uneasy.

"Oh, believe me, hon, I'm not the one here with a Narcissus complex," Lyn shot back at Dean. "Now, JJ and I are gonna go talk, and your answer will be whether or not we're still around by check-out time. By the way, just a hint – if you're attempting to catch me in an agreeable mood, 'right after you've tried to kill me' and 'before I've had my coffee' aren't good times. Yeah, and you might wanna try _not_ being incessantly rude. So buh-bye, now."

Flashing a falsely sweet smile, she slammed the door, huffed exasperatedly, and growled, "I knew I should've shot him…"

Jordan smiled slightly and sat down on the bed.

"That girl… She's gonna drive me insane…" Dean grumbled and walked off.

Sam stared at the door for a while longer and then, sighing, followed Dean.

"So, what was that all about?" Jordan asked.

"You know how I once thought I'd never meet anybody as infuriating as a sugar-high Jacob Farrow?" Lyn asked darkly. "Yeah, well, it turns out I was wrong. Which reminds me… loath though I am to ask for their help again after that whole Erin McLemore fiasco, we really should call the guys and see if they know anything about Jay and Silent Bob over there…"

Jordan blinked a few times. "Okay… Maybe it's 'cause I didn't get a lot of sleep, but I have no idea what you just said."

"Dean… something's off… with that one girl. Jordan? I think that's what her name was. There's something wrong with her."

Sam wrinkled his brow at the girls' motel room, where you could see them talking through the window. (A/N: The curtains were open.)

"What do you mean… off?"

"Like… she flinched when you said cristo, and when I sprinkled the holy water on them. Like she was in pain."

"I said we should call Joey and check up on these guys," Lyn said, frowning slightly. "Can't call Jesse without waking Jamey – and April, for that matter – Becky'll be at work by now, and Jay… well, seriously, Joey's just more reliable than Jay. And even assuming they check out… what're we gonna do about the jerks and their alleged demon?"

"I dunno. I mean, Lyn… if I really am… a… demon, if they do an exorcism or pull another 'cristo' on the thing, won't it affect me, too? I really want to help, but I'm just afraid of what might happen if they figure out… all this stuff."

Dean wrinkled his brow and turned to the window, where he could clearly see Jordan sitting on the bed and Lyn standing over her. _God, she's so young – too young… If it comes down to it, I don't know if I could kill her. __Demon or not._

"There's no two ways about it, though," Lyn said slowly. "You can't have it both ways. Either we take the chance and get you out of the way before any actual exorcising takes place… hopefully… or we high-tail it out of here like our hair's on fire. But whichever way we go, we're still gonna have to have Joey check up on these guys." A pause, then a sigh. "I'd rather not risk it, JJ, but it's your choice."

Jordan cradled her head in her hands. "This sucks ass…"

She thought about it for a few seconds. "Let's get these guys checked out, but… still, I think we should haul ass out of here. God… I hate this…"

Lyn's eyes were sympathetic, her voice kind. "I know."

Dean watched as Jordan held her head in her hands and then looked back up at Lyn. "Strange," he muttered under his breath.

Sam, too, watched the girls' exchange. When they both grabbed their duffels and started to stuff their things into it, alarms went off in his head.

"Dean, I think they're bailing!"

"Yeah, Sammy, I noticed…"

"You know they're gonna get suspicious, right?" Lyn asked, shooting her friend a look as she threw her bag over her shoulder. "And I mean those jerks _and_ my family."

"Well. Yeah. We don't really have any other options, do we? I mean… I can drop you off back at college and just go on my own. I will _not_ be mad or anything if you want to do that. You have a life and everything. I don't want to drag you into this…" Jordan adjusted the duffel strap on her shoulder and shoved her cell phone into her pocket.

"Dean, what do we do!? I mean, do we let them go?" Sam asked frantically.

"No… We find out what they're hiding."

Dean started quickly walking to the front desk, followed by Sam a few seconds later.

"If you honestly believe I'd do that, you really are out of your dadgum mind," Lyn said with a faint smile. "I haven't had a life since I lost Kyle… I've just been chasing shadows."

Flipping open her cell phone, she hit speed dial number three and waited through three rings before a low voice on the other end of the line answered groggily, "'Ello?"

"Hey, Joey," Lyn said, an excuse already forming in her head. "We've got a situation…"

"What kinda situation?" Joey asked, suddenly sounding more alert. "I swear, if you and Jordan got in trouble for hustling again –"

"No, you idget! Like we'd need to call you for _that_. It's these guys who're hounding us. They claim they're hunters, but that was only after one of 'em slammed me into a car and threatened to kill me."

"Gotcha, so you wanna know if they really are or if they're just some jumped-up, whacked-out demons."

"Now you're getting it."

"All right, so describe 'em for me."

"Well, they're not quite as tall as Jay, but then again, who is? Names of Dean and Sam… I think they're related, maybe brothers. Just check up on it for me, will you, and give me a call back? Maybe ask the Coltranes while you're at it, if they'll talk to you these days."

"Keith hit the road same day you did, and Mrs. Coltrane never was very fond of us, much less now…"

Lyn's brow furrowed. "He's gone? … Well, thanks for telling me, Joey. Anyway, let me know, okay?"

"All right. You two steer clear of 'em until we're sure of who they are, you got me?"

"Of course. Hurry, if you can, I've got a hunch we won't lose 'em easily and I wanna know what steps to take, y'know?"

"Gotcha. Talk to you soon, Lyndi."

"Bye, Joey."

"Bye."

There was still a crease between Lyn's eyebrows as she grabbed her bag and opened the door. "Kyle's brother hopped town the same day we left," she said with a sideways glance at Jordan. "Why would he leave their mom alone like that?"

Jordan raised her right eyebrow. "Hell if I know…"

"Okay, Sam… When they drive off, get ready to get in the Impala… We gotta stay far enough behind them that they don't see us, but not so far that we lose 'em. Got it?" Dean looked over at his brother.

"Uh… yeah…" Sam looked slightly confused.

Jordan motioned for Lyn to follow her down the back stairs of the building after they spotted Dean and Sam hiding near the front desk. It wasn't hard to creep up behind the guys upon knowing they were there, and Lyn and Jordan, guns in hand, slammed the butts of the weapons into the back of the guys' heads. The blows weren't hard enough to cause any real damage, just enough to knock them out for a few hours.

"All right… let's go," Jordan said quietly, and ran toward her car. Lyn was half a step behind, and as she got into the passenger seat, Jordan started the car.

A minute later, they had backed up and were pulling into the highway.


	5. Taken

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Yeah, we've been a tad slow on the updating...

Jordan: But again, not our faults. Just Lyn's.

Me: Oh, shut up! I can't help it that I was sick and nobody could tell me what was wrong…

Jordan: Riiight… Anyway, review!

* * *

**Chapter Five – Taken**

Jordan pulled the Impala up to a crappy roadhouse on the side of a long, dusty highway. "Well… looks like the crap shack's our only option, huh? Harvelle's… Roadhouse. Sounds promising… enough…" Jordan got out of the car and slammed the car door, pulling her duffel out as she went.

"Good a place as any, I reckon," Lyn said with a sigh, brushing back her hair and grabbing her own duffel bag. "But if there are mutant cockroaches this time, I swear I'm shooting the owner…"

Jordan chuckled and started walking toward the building. "You comin' or what?" she asked, turning around and walking backwards.

"When you trip and bust your lip in the dirt, I'm gonna laugh so hard," Lyn said with a smirk as she followed her friend.

"Ha ha," Jordan mumbled before turning around again and walking in properly. Once inside, she considered one of the smokiest bars she'd ever been in. She coughed a few times and walked up to the bar.

"Afternoon, hon," said a rather short woman with wavy, golden-brown hair and a very freckled face as she seemed to size up Jordan suspiciously. Her eyes were very distinctive, a very pale blue that was little more than half a shade away from white. "If you're wanting something to drink, though, you know I'm gonna have to have some ID."

"Aww… Come on, I'm about to turn twenty-one, I swear! My birthday's in a month! Lyn… tell her!" Jordan said, looking desperately to your friend.

"True as true, though I have no clue why you'd want to pollute your blood with that stuff," Lyn said distastefully. "But maybe I just have an instinctive aversion, because of Mom…"

She shrugged and approached only to stop dead in her tracks a she caught sight of the woman behind the counter. "Wendy? Wendy Martin, aren't you?"

The woman blinked and then recognized Lyn the same way Lyn had recognized her – by the eyes. Wendy's were so pale they were almost ghostly, and Lyn's were an equally distinctive deep green with black flecks and a black ring around the iris. Wendy's eyes widened and she suddenly grinned. "Well, I never – if you aren't Lyndotia Elumo, I'll eat Dr. Varisan's horrible toupee!"

Jordan coughed. "Well, isn't that nice? Reunions are always fun, aren't they?"

Two men sat at the back of the bar. One was slightly older, his face rugged with the stubble of not having shaved for a few days. The other was clean-shaven and had a laptop sitting in front of him. At the mention of Lyn's name, they both looked up.

Lyn didn't notice – at least, not yet. "Dr. Varisan gave up on the toupee the year you left," she informed Wendy. "I guess now poor fools in Jordan's year won't understand the toupee jokes. Anyway, this is Vicksburg? _This_ is the big-deal yank town you left us all for?"

"Hey, I was barely nineteen!" Wendy objected. "Anyway, it wasn't like I had a whole lot of choices. Either this or wind up waiting tables at Cameron's with you and Carla – no offense or anything."

"None taken, pygmy."

Wendy crossed her arms. "You realize annoying me with old nicknames isn't gonna make me give Jordan a drink, right?"

"Hey, wait! Come on… just one beer! It's just one month off!" Jordan smacked her head on the counter.

Dean looked over at Sam and they both got their things and quickly left the bar. They then proceeded out to the Impala and got holy water.

"Oh, live with it," Lyn said, rolling her eyes and pulling Jordan up off the counter. "I mean, really… You turn into my mother and I'll kick you…"

"A month?" Wendy asked suddenly. "It isn't the twenty-third today, is it?"

"About a month… maybe a few days less… It's the twenty-sixth. Wait… how do _you_ know _my_ birthday?"

Sam and Dean sat in the car waiting for Lyn, and presumably Jordan was the girl with her. The fact that Jordan was a demon had been confirmed. She had developed her powers and grown into herself. They had to take her out before she had the chance to hurt anyone.

Wendy actually laughed. "Because it's exactly a month after Lyn's, duh. And how many hours did you and Carla and I spend plotting her surprise sweet sixteen party? … Wow, it's hard to believe that was eight years ago…"

"It's the twenty-sixth?" Lyn asked, furrowing her brow. "That means it's Nicky's birthday, I completely forgot. There a pay phone around here anywhere? I have zero cell reception here…"

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Okay… Can I just have a drink? I've had a beer before…"

"Wendy, who you talkin' to? We've got tables that need cleanin' and people need drinks!" A blonde with wavy hair walked behind the counter.

"Oh, right," Wendy said, grinning guiltily. "Jo, this is Lyn and that's Jordan – I grew up with 'em. I'll be back – oh, and Jordan is _not_ twenty-one for twenty-seven more days, don't let her fool you."

Lyn chuckled as Wendy meandered off toward a table and then switched her gaze back to the blond, Jo. "Well, apparently she hasn't changed much. Anyway, I'm Lyn Elumo – nice to meet you."

Jordan glared after Wendy. "I despise her… I'm almost twenty-one! Can't I just have _one_ beer!?"

"No," Jo answered, smirking.

"Argh! I'm going out to explore. We're probably gonna be staying here." Jordan paused before adding under her breath, "Plus we got beers in the car."

She grinned and walked out to the car.

"Sam… there she is. Come on, we gotta sneak up on her. There's no telling what kind of powers she has."

They both got out of the car and walked slowly and cautiously up behind Jordan, who was pulling the back seat up and digging around in the cooler for a beer.

Dean pulled her out of the back seat and knocked her unconscious, and she promptly fell into Sam's arms.

Sam put her in the back seat of Dean's Impala and put handcuffs on her hands and ankles, not wanting to take any chances.

"Let's go," Sam said grimly as he climbed into the passenger seat.

They sped off, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

"Yeah, I know how old you are," Lyn said with a grin as she leaned against the wall, talking on the pay phone. "I was there the day you were born, that was when your momma recruited me to babysit you."

There was the sudden sound of a revving engine speeding away from outside, and Lyn froze. "Nick, hon, I gotta go --"

She might have continued speaking, but she dropped the receiver then and was out of the door in time to see the dust still flying. Someone with less keen eyesight might have missed the shadow of Dean's Impala in the background.

"JORDAN!?" Lyn yelled as the car disappeared into the flying dust. "Jordan, get your butt out here, this isn't freaking funny!"

_She's here somewhere, she's here somewhere, it's not them, it can't be…_

But there was no other explanation. It was the same car, from five years ago – the same _hunters_. And Jordan was nowhere to be found.

Jo and Wendy ran out a few seconds later. "Lyn! What happened!? What's wrong!?" they asked at almost exactly the same time.

Lyn didn't answer, just closed her eyes as she stood before the half-open cooler and spilled ice and murmured, "Unelanvhi, alisdelvdi aya…"

Her fists clenched and then she threw a handful of ice to the ground with unnecessary force and slammed the door. "Has to be the Winchesters… that car… but after five freaking years!?"

Growling low in her throat, she pulled the spare keys to Jordan's car from her pocket before remembering that she had left her duffel bag inside.

"Lyn?" Wendy asked slowly.

"Excuse me," Lyn said, attempting to push past Wendy and Jo. "I have to get my bag and then go find Jordan."

Jo looked to Wendy, her face full of anger. "Dammit… What are they up to now!?"

"Who?" Wendy questioned.

"Dean and Sam Winchester – they kidnapped Jordan! … Idgets… What the hell are they thinking!? Lyn! We're coming with you!" Jo yelled toward the door as she got in the back seat.

"Wait, we are?" Wendy asked, standing at the open car door.

"Yeah," Jo said firmly as she pulled Wendy in and shut the door.

Lyn threw her and Jordan's duffel bags into the front seat and looked back at Wendy and Jo tensely. She didn't know if they should go or not, or even if she should trust this Jo; but she didn't have time to argue. She would just have to trust Wendy.

"Fine," Lyn said in a low voice as she started the car. "But if I tell you to go, you freaking go and screw the rest of it. I've lost enough people I care about to this crap; they're taking Jordan over my dead body."

"'Kay," they both said in unison.

They were prepared to fight. Jo trusted Wendy, and she knew that Jordan meant a lot to her. She would fight anybody it took to get her back.


	6. Emergency

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: -- Sorry it's taking so long again.

Jordan: Yeah, I'm at my grandmom's, and she's like old fashioned and thinks you actually need to go to bed at a normal hour… heh… Anyway, reviews equal love!

* * *

**Chapter Six – Emergency**

_Jeez, my head hurts… Wait, why does my head hurt? Do I have a hangover? I didn't drink that much… Wait… I didn't drink at all!_

Jordan opened her eyes and blinked in an attempt to focus them, which for some reason just made her head hurt more. "Ow…" Her brown eyes darted around from left to right and she asked slowly, "Uh… Lyn…? Where am I…?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but Lyn's not here. Just the three of us."

Dean and Sam stepped into Jordan's view. Or what would have been her view were she not blindfolded.

And there was that cold feeling in the pit of her stomach again, just like when she had looked at Sam and known that he _knew_. Only now there was no locked door between them and apparently no Lyn on her side.

For the moment, anyway. But Lyn would come, Jordan knew that. The only question was, how soon?

"Just the three of us?" Jordan repeated, attempting a smirk. "Sorry, I don't do threesomes. But if you wait 'til Lyn shows up, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to kick both your sorry butts."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I don't see any kind of threesome in your future. And I doubt Lyn'll get here in time to stop us from killing you," Dean said, leaning against a wall.

From the other side of the room, Sam went on, "Demons deserve to die. You slipped past us once, you're not gonna get away again."

Jordan raised her eyebrows at them. "Well, I might as well answer those absurd comments in order. First, you really don't know anything about Lyn at all if you honestly believe that; and second, you wanna tell me something I actually _did_ to deserve death, fool?"

Dean walked slowly towards Jordan, pulling out a long bowie knife as he went. "You can believe whatever you want," he said as he lifted the knife to her throat. "What did you do? It's not what you did. It's what you are. A demon…"

He ran the tip of the knife down the side of Jordan's neck, leaving a gash and a trail of blood along the way.

She cried out in pain. "Ow! Son of a bitch! Did you do that to prove a point!? Point proven! Now get away from me before I bite your hand off!" She snapped her teeth together and moved her head around, trying to free herself from the blindfold.

Dean smirked at her and pulled out a flask of holy water. He flicked his wrist at her and a spray of the liquid came pouring out on Jordan. Her skin stung and a small amount of steam rose off her. She flinched and clenched her teeth.

"Aww, now… See there? Can you still hear the poor girl's cries in your head? Has she faded yet, you worthless scum!?" Sam yelled at Jordan as he walked over to her.

She gritted her teeth and growled, "The only thing worthless is that hollow rock on your neck most people keep their brains in…"

"Feisty, isn't she, Sam?" Dean asked, sneering at Jordan as he threw more holy water at her.

She gritted her teeth and yelled at him, steam rising from her skin. "Jesus… if you're gonna kill me or attempt to exorcise me, do it!"

"Fine. This was getting old, anyway. Sam, you wanna have the honor?"

"Oh, hell, yeah," Sam said, eyes glinting dangerously at Jordan. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

Jordan's stomach felt like it was going to implode. The pain was becoming unbearable when suddenly Sam stopped.

"Dean, what the hell? She's being affected, but isn't this the part where the demon comes out of her body?"

"Don't look at me! I have no idea what the hell's happening," Dean said, brow furrowed.

Jordan let her head fall back. "God… that hurt. Sons. Of. Bitches," she muttered to herself.

Dean looked over at Sam, raised the knife from earlier, and said something in a voice that only Sam could hear. Sam nodded, and Dean walked over to Jordan, bringing the knife toward her stomach.

"You gonna stab me? So you're admitting that you can't exorcise me, but you're gonna kill a potentially innocent person?"

Dean looked conflicted for a second, and doubt washed over his face.

Jordan smirked.

Dean clenched his teeth. He knew that they had to kill this thing by any means necessary. This could just be some demon with a few tricks up its sleeve. But, he also knew that she could be innocent.

"Dean, we have to," Sam said, his voice cold. "Do it."

Dean shoved the knife forward and it slid into Jordan's stomach. He stood up, ready to let her bleed to death.

Jordan screamed, tears leaking from her eyes.

There was a tremendous crashing sound as the door of the room shot open, flew off its hinges, and skidded a few feet before finally coming to a stop. Through the doorway proceeded three women, the first of which was a wild-eyed Lyn and last of which was a shocked-looking Jo.

"Jordan!" Wendy gasped, pressing a hand over her mouth.

Lyn's green gaze shifted out of focus for a moment. Images flashed through her mind of Nicole and Kyle, and as her focus shot back to the present, her jaw clenched and a low growl escaped her throat.

"You freaking godforsaken moronic lunatics," she hissed with a half crazy, half murderous look in her eyes as she pulled a Browning nine millimeter from the back of her waistband and aimed it between Dean's eyes. "You better have your last wishes all planned out, because you have about five seconds left to make 'em known."

Dean backed away from Lyn. "She's a demon. We did what we had to do."

Jordan's eyes rolled back and her body started to go limp as Jo and Wendy ran over to her.

"Oh, God… She's losing a lot of blood. Wendy, we gotta get her out of these handcuffs."

Jo then suddenly pulled a gun of her own and pointed it at Sam. "Give me the keys, Sam."

Sam gave her the keys reluctantly, and Jo ran over to Jordan again. She unlocked the handcuffs and Wendy and Jo lowered Jordan to the ground. Wendy carefully pulled the knife from Jordan's stomach, which elicited a scream from the wounded girl. Jo applied pressure to the wound and looked to Lyn, tears starting to bead in her eyes as well as Wendy's.

Lyn was still glaring at Dean with an expression of pure hatred, aim unwavering as she took a step forward for his every step back. "You're wrong," she growled coldly. "The only thing you _had_ to do was freaking walk away. But it's not that simple any more. So right now, you'd better be praying to whatever god would condone an imbecile like you that Jordan's all right – because if she dies, I swear she won't be the only one."

She was interrupted by Jordan taking in rapid, shallow breaths, and Lyn froze for a split second before suddenly turning away from Dean and kneeling beside Jordan. She felt for a pulse and grimaced; Jordan's heartbeat was rapid but weak, her skin clammy.

"She's in shock," Lyn said quickly, eyes darting from Wendy to Jo. "Unless one of you has sodium chloride and materials necessary for a blood transfusion on hand, we've gotta get her to an ER. You," she said, looking at Jo, "help me get her in the car, and be careful; if her blood pressure's too low, too much jolting can kill her. Wendy, call an ambulance and see if they can meet us halfway to the nearest hospital, she's gotta get some fluid back in her before she gets to stage four. And you two –" Lyn shot a death glare at Dean and Sam and warned, "keep the crap out of the way."

Dean walked over to Sam and whispered something in his ear. Sam nodded and, after grabbing their duffels, they hurried out without another word. Nobody even noticed.

Wendy got up and pulled out her cell phone, dialing 911 with quivering hands and waiting with bated breath for a dispatcher.

Jo looked to Lyn. "Ready?"

Lyn nodded grimly, face pale and drawn as she switched her gaze to Jordan and prepared to lift her. _Come on, JJ… You're not going out like this. Not you, too._

They lifted her carefully, but still Jordan cried out in pain. The sound of an engine revving drowned her out as Lyn and Jo carried her to the car.

"They're gonna meet us at the entrance ramp onto Highway 97 – they said, from what I told them, she doesn't have much time." Wendy ran ahead and pulled the back door open. "Lyn, you wanna sit in the back with her?" she asked, glancing at Lyn's pale face and pained expression.

"I know she doesn't," Lyn said distractedly. "She's at least in stage two, and stage four's irreversible." She paused for a moment, chewing on her lower lip, before nodding at Wendy. "All right, you drive, maybe that lead foot of yours'll come in handy…"

Jo got into the passenger seat and Wendy got behind the wheel. Jordan was lying across the back seat with sweat, blood, and tears coating her skin. Lyn just knelt on the floorboard so that Jordan could have the seat to herself, still keeping pressure on the stab wound, and shot a look over her shoulder at Wendy and Jo.

"Any thoughts on how the crap we explain this?"

"No idea," Wendy said, while chewing on her lip and driving 60 mph. "Tell them… Uh… Yeah, I got nothing."

"Tell them the truth, maybe?" Jo asked, looking back at Lyn.

Jordan cried out in pain and took a few quick breaths before suddenly her breathing stopped altogether.

Any color that Lyn might have had left in her face drained then; even her eyes seemed to turn a paler shade of green. "Jordan," she said sharply, testing for a pulse. If she wasn't breathing, Lyn knew that cardiac arrest would be next. "Come on, JJ, you can't stop breathing now, we're almost there and I can't freaking intubate in a speeding car with no supplies…"

Jordan made no reply, but her eyes shot open and her breathing resumed, albeit more erratic. "Lyn – it – hurts!"

Wendy drove faster, and even though it was still ten minutes or more until Highway 97, Jo began looking for any signs of the ambulance.

"Yeah, I know it does, JJ," Lyn said with a faint twitch in the side of her face that might have been a suppressed grimace but which she attempted (and failed miserably) to turn into a smirk as she joked, "You forget, in my family, you're not a real hunter until you've been stabbed, shot, burned, or electrocuted a couple of times. But hey, now you can tell Jay to shove it next time he goes on about that shoulder wound, huh?"

Tears pooled in the corners of Jordan's eyes. "I'm sorry, Lyn. I should've tried harder…"

The distant sound of sirens could be heard, and Wendy sped up considerably.

"Hey, you shut it, you hear me?" Lyn shot back, though her voice was considerably softer than usual. "I ain't hearing this crap from you when you think you're dying if you wouldn't let me say it when I thought I was, 'cause you're gonna be wrong, too. And you're not the one who has something to apologize for, anyway."

The car came to a stop and Wendy got out, followed by Jo. The back doors opened and a voice said, "Miss, we need to get her out."

"Finally," Lyn breathed, not taking the time to climb out of one of the side doors but instead going over the front seat to stay out of the way. "She stopped breathing for a second on the way over, but I didn't have any way to stabilize her blood pressure or respiratory system…"

"We'll take good care of her," promised a woman as they got Jordan out of the car and onto a stretcher. "Do you want to ride in the ambulance with her?" she asked as they wheeled Jordan toward the vehicle.

Wendy and Jo were standing out of the way, talking to one of the EMTs. Lyn glanced at them and then nodded at the woman who had been speaking. "I'm going with JJ," she said upon catching Wendy's eye. "You two take the car – and keep your eyes open."

Jordan still wasn't in the clear, and somehow, Lyn had a feeling that they hadn't seen the last of the Winchester brothers.


	7. Revisiting

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Jordan: SO! I've been at camp! -glares at jerks at camp- But now I'm back! And we're going to be writing a lot more! YAY!! I'm using a lot of exclamation points…

Lyn: I'll say you are. XD

Jordan: They're awesome, okay? Like HBO!!

Lyn: For all of you out there who are thinking of the TV station… it's not. She's talking about Honey Bunches of Oats… because she is really obsessed.

Jordan: The crunchy clusters penetrate my soul with their honey-sweet goodness… heehee…

Lyn: ANYWAY! Hope you enjoy! Remember to review! And hope you don't get the exclamation point fever like I apparently just did! XD

Jordan: I'll share some of my HBO with you! 8D

* * *

**Chapter Seven – Revisiting**

Jordan drifted in and out of consciousness, the sights and sounds about as familiar as the average foreign language. Her mind screamed to her, _Find Lyn! Make sure she's okay!_ However, her body had other ideas, apparently, and the pain immobilized her.

She was vaguely aware of yelling. Lyn yelling. Jordan would know that Southern drawl anywhere, it was unmistakable; especially when Lyn was upset, because that was when her emotions were too out of control for her to even attempt to keep her accent under control. Jordan smiled slightly, the gesture bringing a whole new level of throbbing pain that she hadn't known was even possible.

"The freaking crap you're not gonna let me in!" Lyn thundered, glaring murderously at the doctor and two nurses who stood between her and the door to Jordan's room in ICU.

"But, miss," one of the nurses, a thin woman even shorter than Wendy, said, looking frightened, "only the immediate family are allowed into the rooms –"

"Do I look like I care!? I might as well be her sister, we grew up together since before she could walk! She doesn't _have_ any blood kin left, immediate or otherwise, and she's _not_ staying in there by herself! So you either let me through or you're gonna be freaking glad you're already in a dadgum hospital!"

Wendy looked at Jo, who was staring, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, at Lyn.

"Maybe we should – uh –" Wendy sputtered.

"Yeah…" Jo murmured, walking toward Lyn, followed by Wendy.

"I'm sorry, miss, but – uh – if you don't – er – calm down – uh, we're gonna have to – uh – call… security…?" the other nurse stuttered, stepping forward.

Jo rested her hand on Lyn's arm. "Come on… We'll get in there, but you'll do no good to Jordan after getting taken away by security."

Wendy nodded at Jo and looked to the shaking nurses.

By this time, all the people at the front desk and in the waiting room were staring and whispering amongst their friends and families.

"You crazy?" Lyn growled, glaring at Jo. "You have any idea how absurdly easy it is to get past security in places like these? And it's not like they give a freaking crap, if something happens, and I really don't want to have to add anyone else to my blacklist today."

Jo sighed and stepped back, looking from Wendy to the terrified nurses. "Well… this is awkward…"

Jordan groaned inwardly as things became much clearer – light, _sound_…

Lyn's yelling rang through her ears like cymbals.

"My head… is going to explode… Ungh…" Jordan opened her eyes and flinched as the blinding sunlight hit her pupils. _God, this sucks ass…_

She looked down at her bed and, thanking God, pressed the 'call nurse' button several times.

The nurses' heads whipped toward Jordan's room, and then they shot a look at Lyn before running off toward it. Wendy and Jo looked after them, confused.

"Lyn – wha –"

But they didn't finish the sentence, because Lyn had already ran after them, into Jordan's room. The brunette almost laughed when she saw that her friend was awake. "Well," she said, though she was unable to hide the relief in her voice, "looks like I was right when I told you that you'd be lingering a bit longer in the land of the living, eh?"

"You didn't think I was gonna give up on you, did you?" Jordan asked, then chuckled and smirked. Wendy and Jo ran in a few seconds later, and then sighed in relief. Meanwhile, the nurses were busy around Jordan's bed, checking machines and giving the girl some pain medication.

"Psh, you're the one who was writing out your will and acting like you were already dead," Lyn said, grinning. "At least now I don't have to track down anybody and kill them. Deliver death threats, possibly, just for good measure; but meh…"

Jordan winced slightly as needles pierced her skin, then grinned. "I'm very surprised, Lyn… I figured you would have already killed those jerk-offs already… Oh well…"

Wendy and Jo grinned and chuckled at Jordan's comment, but stayed back near the door.

"Oh, I still can, if you want!" Lyn offered a little too eagerly. "I'd be more than happy to. Probably would've earlier, except that I wasn't about to stick around that long since you were already in shock…"

"See… I would say yes, but last time we tangled with them… well… _this_ happened… We should probably stay as far away from them as possible from now on," Jordan replied.

The two nurses looked at them strangely, probably because of the topic of their conversation. "I'm fine, really," Jordan said with a false, sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face. "You two can leave."

The nurses hesitantly did as they were asked, after a few glances back at the foursome.

"You call that 'tangling' with them?" Lyn asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow once the nurses were safely out of earshot. "Seriously! You were tied to a chair and I didn't even get to shoot anybody. That's a freaking hostage crisis, that's what that is."

"Fine, then! Hostage crisis, tangling… Whatever the crap you wanna call it. I'd rather avoid them…" Jordan glared at Lyn, annoyed.

"_You can't go in! She's asked that only family and close friends see her!"_

Lyn suddenly tensed and glared unseeingly at the wall. Through gritted teeth, she growled at Wendy and Jo, "Tell me one of you has a boyfriend or something who you called and who is now trying to get in. Or even that you called my cousins and they somehow got here in record time. Because I'm not liking the idea of that being the only other people who know Jordan's in the hospital."

Jordan's brow wrinkled, and she pushed herself up into as close to a sitting position as she could manage, straining to look out the door. Wendy turned around and looked cautiously out the door. Her eyes went wide and darted back to Lyn.

"I take that silence as a no," Lyn said grimly, mentally cursing whatever bad luck had conspired against them today. "It's them, isn't it."

It wasn't really a question, and she didn't wait for an answer, either. She turned and stalked through the door, muttering as she went, "If you hear them calling for security, it probably means our friends don't understand the meaning of the phrase 'go away' and I had to explain it to them…"

Dean walked quickly through the hallway, ignoring the protests of nurses following him. _God, I hope they don't kill me,_ he thought to himself.

Lyn's gaze turned to ice as she walked through the doorway and saw him coming down the hall. Naturally, it would be the blade-happy psychopath with the death wish. When had the Elumo name ever brought _good_ luck, anyway?

"You have _some_ nerve," she hissed venomously, stalking forward to meet him, "but you are more than a little lacking in the intelligence department. What in the name of all that is good and holy do you think you're doing here!?"

Dean looked up and instantly felt terrified, though of course he would never admit that. "I came to… uh… apologize."

"Apolo – _apologize_!?"

It was impossible to tell if Lyn was just infuriated beyond logical reasoning or simply shocked speechless by this statement, but either way it was a few seconds before she switched her gaze to the trio of nurses who had been shadowing Dean and attempting to herd him back toward wherever he had come from and said, "Okay, how about you all go. Over there. Somewhere. Which isn't here."

She flashed a falsely sweet smile and suddenly seized the sleeve of Dean's coat, using it to drag him forcefully a few feet away from where the nurses were still standing looking stunned, and demanded in a low and scathing whisper, "You freaking try to kill my best friend, very nearly succeed, and then show up here wanting to _apologize_!?"

Dean's eyes went wide and he sputtered out something that sounded like a yes.

Lyn released his sleeve with an angry sort of cross between a sigh and a growl and switched to massaging her knuckles in what was quite obviously an effort not to hit him. "You have done quite enough for one day," she snapped. "If you want to make amends, you may do so by leaving now and never coming anywhere near Jordan again."

Dean looked down at his shoes and then back up at Lyn. "Is she okay?"

"She's alive," Lyn answered, her voice losing a bit of its edge – for the moment, at least. "More than I can say for the last person I saw with a wound like that. But she's by no means okay, and she's pretty dadgum scared, whether she'll admit it or not. Not that you give a crap, or you wouldn't have stabbed her in the first place, so you may as well drop the concerned facade already."

"I'm sorry. But if you were in my position, what would you have done? If there was a potentially dangerous demon, what would you have honestly done? I mean… I was always trained to believe that if there's something that could be potentially evil, you kill it. She reacted to the holy water and 'cristo.'" Dean paused to sigh. "I really am sorry. I called a trusted friend and told him about the situation. I didn't use any names. He said he's never heard of anything like it. He wants to meet her… I told him that most likely wouldn't happen, but… uh… yeah."

_You're so pathetic, Dean…_ He mentally grumbled at himself.

Lyn was visibly in better control of her anger now, but by no means calm. However, her voice was level as she said coolly, "I've been a hunter all my life. Three generations of my family were hunters before me. You think I didn't ask myself those questions? But you're looking at her like an _assassin_, not a _hunter_, Winchester. She's my family, blood or not. I grew up with her, took care of her, taught her how to fight and read and drive – and she's the same Jordan now that she was then. You've been looking for a monster in that girl in there, and even when you couldn't find one, you tried to kill her, anyway!"

"I made a mistake – one I won't make again. I can't convince you otherwise, I'm sure. But you'd best be careful, sweetheart; word spreads fast."

Dean pressed a piece of paper into Lyn's hand and turned on his heel, walking away quickly.

Lyn frowned down at the paper and the number written on it. After a moment, she shook her head and gave up on trying to figure out why he had given her his phone number and just shoved it in her pocket before starting back toward Jordan's room. Ordinarily, she probably would have tossed it, but she was very conscious of the nurses still watching her, and there weren't any garbage cans close by.

"He's gone," she announced with a sigh as she walked back into the room in ICU.

"Wow, and without security being called!" Wendy said with a raised right eyebrow and a mocking smile to hide her actual relief that her friend hadn't done something drastic. "Well, I'll be. You're getting downright docile in your old age of twenty-four, Lyn!"

"Hey, I think y'all should be proud," Lyn said half seriously. "This is the first time I've seen that dude and there haven't been any loaded firearms involved in our conversation! I guess fourth time's the charm, huh? Or fifth, if you count that time we knocked them out separate from the time I almost shot them from pure reflex for showing up outside our room at six in the morning…"

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Nice job, Lyn… We all think it's great that you didn't kill him. Now… I think it's time we get out of this place… It's kinda depressing, don't you agree?" she said with a smirk.

Lyn shifted her weight uncomfortably to one foot and bit her lip. "Weeelllll… Ordinarily, I'd say 'Let's blow this popsicle stand!' and get going… But ordinarily you haven't just been stabbed and lost almost half your body fluid. I think we'd better wait and see what the doctors say first. I don't think our friends will show up again… and if they do, oh well. There's still time for security to get called in."

Jordan huffed and glared at Lyn. "I don't suppose there's any way of convincing you I'm fine… is there?" she asked, giving Lyn her trademark 'puppy dog eyes,' to which Wendy and Jo smirked.

Now it was Lyn's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, please – you know that hasn't worked since you were four years old, and even then it was only good for petty stuff like making me give you a cookie. And you also know as well as I do that I abhor hospitals, but seriously, Jordan. I spring you now and something happens, what the crap do you think I'm gonna do? You know, _after_ I go all wacko and spaz out and there's nobody there to kick me in the teeth and set me straight this time?"

Jordan pouted and, huffing, crossed her arms and stared out the window longingly. Jo tried to reassure her, saying, "It shouldn't be much longer, now. Hang in there."

Lyn, however, just proceeded to cross her own arms and lean back against the wall. She was still thinking about what that Winchester guy had said earlier – about how word would get around. Did that mean they had told someone about Jordan? Lyn and Jordan had definitely done a pretty good job of keeping it secret since they had found out; even Lyn's family didn't know, with the exception of her most level-headed cousin, Joey, who she had finally entrusted with the secret after one near-death experience when she had wanted to make sure that, if something did happen to her, Jordan wouldn't be on her own. But Jordan didn't even know that he had told him, and there wasn't anybody else know knew about it outside of this room… except for maybe whoever had sent the brothers after her in the first place? Suddenly she was suspicious of this 'friend' Winchester had been talking about, and she wondered if it was the same one, and if he would make the connection…


	8. Confrontation

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Jordan: Okay! Wassup, peoples! Now, listen… We're very sorry that we haven't updated this story in like… forever. See, we have – what is it, three? -looks to Lyn-

Lyn: Three…

Jordan: -gasp- THREE stories that we're working on! But… we have finally gotten to work on a new chapter! YAYY!!

Lyn: Anyway… We got a review from a person named…

Jordan: SJM89!

Lyn: That's right! And we wanted to answer your question! So, we're not quite sure where exactly this story's gonna go… But we can tell you that you're on the right track…

Jordan: YUP! But… keep a-readin', folks! And reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Confrontation**

Jordan lay on her back, what seemed like millions of pillows piled under her head and around her body. "This really sucks, Lyn… I hate not being able to throw myself around recklessly and endanger various body parts!" she yelled, gulping in a breath of air.

Lyn tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help rolling her eyes. "JJ, I know this," she reminded her friend. "Jacksonville, a year and a half ago? And St. Augustine, two years before that… And that run-in with the Grand Cherokee when I was eighteen… And that's not even counting the number of times I've had weapons pointed at my head or something similar. Come to think of it, you're a bit behind with your near-death experiences, Jordan!" she concluded with a joking grin.

"Argh! This is no time for joking… I don't like being stationary for long periods of time! It's not fun!" Jordan complained, her voice laced with boredom, annoyance, frustration, and more boredom.

"Then watch TV!" Lyn advised, tossing the remote toward Jordan's bed. "There's nothing on, but feel free. Read a book. Play pinball on your cell phone. Just nothing related to hunting. You are officially grounded for at least a few weeks. Doctor's and best friend's orders."

Jordan glared at Lyn and held her hand out, grabbing the remote and slamming it down on the bed next to her. "But I don't wanna!" she whined, sounding like a five-year-old who didn't want to go to bed.

Lyn sighed heavily and sat down cross-legged on the other bed, putting her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her folded hands. "What _do_ you want, then?" she asked wearily. "You know, within reason of what you can actually do right now."

"Uh… I wanna…" She paused, thoughtful for a moment. "I wanna play putt-putt golf!" she finally exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Lyn stared for a good ten seconds before demanding, "You almost get killed and the first thing you wanna do is play freaking _mini golf_!?"

"Yeah! Y'know, I've always detested mini-golf… but now that I _can't_ do it… I _wanna_ do it! It's calling my name! The little multi-colored golf balls… Golf clubs that can conveniently become a dangerous weapon in no seconds flat!" She looked genuinely delighted, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Lyn.

There was a crooked grin on Lyn's features as she asked wryly, "This is because I won't let you handle any weapons, isn't it?"

"Heh… No! 'F course not!" Jordan said, chuckling humorlessly.

Lyn sighed heavily. "Fine. If I ask Wendy if there's anywhere to play mini-golf around here, will you stop complaining until you can stand properly and are actually able to go?"

Jordan pumped her fist in the air, which was quickly followed by, "Ow! Son of a bitch!" She glared straight ahead, annoyed to no end at her condition.

"Please _try_ not to kill yourself," Lyn said with a sigh. "If you died now, I wouldn't even have anybody to kill for it."

Jordan's Impala went speeding down the highway at sixty, Lyn driving, as she had been for the past couple of weeks (much to Jordan's chagrin), and Jordan riding shotgun (very begrudgingly).

"Are we there yet?" Jordan whined impatiently.

"Yes, we're definitely there, JJ," Lyn said, smiling innocently. "Just go ahead and open your door and get out!"

"I resent that. You wish me harm after I already got hurt. That really hurts in here…" Jordan made a big show of pointing to her heart and shaking her head.

"You're sure it doesn't hurt your _soul_, JJ?" Lyn asked, grinning crookedly.

"Shut up, Lyn… So not in the mood… I wanna drive my car again! I wanna be able to drive so recklessly that you fear for your life! But noooo!" Jordan rolled her eyes and leaned back in the seat.

"I always fear for my life when you're behind the wheel," Lyn said with a grin. Then as her green eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, they narrowed. The cause of this wasn't immediately noticeable, until she asked quietly, "Hey, Jordan, you see that black F-250 in the mirrors? Three, four car lengths back?"

Jordan's retort was stuck in her throat as she turned around and looked. "Yeah…"

Lyn paused for a second and muttered, "It's been behind us for twelve and a half miles and five turns…"

Jordan let out a shaky breath. "Great… Freakin' A…" She turned back around, watching in the side mirror; still, the truck made no sign of going anywhere but right behind them.

There was a moment of relative silence before Lyn shot Jordan a sideways look and asked slowly, "Okay… so… you up for something really stupid which will in the best case prove we're not being followed but worst case might result in a confrontation with whoever's driving that thing?"

"Always, Lyn… Always," Jordan said, looking over at Lyn with the side of her mouth turned up into a small smirk.

"Okay… I would say cross your fingers, but you're gonna need those to get the revolver out from under the seat. I'm gonna pull in that dead-end up ahead… if they follow, we have our answer. It's basically construction, so at least we'll have maneuvering room in that case. And if I have to stop the car, you trust me with our friend and high-tail it back to Harvelle's and get Jo and Wendy, it's just a little over half a mile. I did a little circling earlier, trying to ditch our friend… just head straight through the trees…"

"Lyn, I'm not leaving you with this person. God only knows who it is, or what they want," Jordan said, reaching under the seat and grabbing the revolver they kept there for safety.

"You're in no condition to stick around if it comes down to any sort of physical confrontation," Lyn shot back, giving Jordan a dark sort of sideways look. "Look, just trust me, okay? I'll be fine, I was training with Justin and Joey practically since I could walk. Just get Wendy and Jo. Anyway, you know me – I'm never unarmed."

She flashed a crooked grin and turned right into the dead end road she had been referring to earlier. She watched the rearview mirror more than the road as the car's wheels crunched on the gravel. Five seconds… ten… any second now…

And then the F-250 turned in after them, and Lyn's jaw set. So she was right. Well, she couldn't say she was surprised… "Okay, hang on to your britches," she muttered through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna try to circle around in this construction site and –"

Lyn's voice was cut off at the same time as the Ford cut off the turn she had just been making. She slammed on the brakes and threw the car into reverse, backing up in a clean arc around a bulldozer, but as she tried to pull out again, the truck again blocked their path. _Yeah, definitely after us…_

"On three," she whispered without moving her lips, slowly shifting into reverse again. "One… Two…" _Please listen to me, Jordan, you're probably the one they're after… Just listen to me and go and I'll hold 'em off…_

"Three!" she yelled, pressing the gas pedal to the floor and sending gravel flying as she spun the car a full 180 degrees, cutting off the Ford this time, and affording the passenger side of the car a clear path to the woods. "_Go_, now!" Lyn growled, abruptly shutting off the engine and pulling her Browning nine millimeter from the back of her waistband as she threw open the driver's side door.

Jordan looked from Lyn to the Ford, her brow creased. "But…" She trailed off, knowing that no matter what she said or did, Lyn would never back down. So instead of arguing, she pushed the passenger door open, clutching the revolver in her right hand as she bent down and started to run toward the woods.

As Lyn dodged behind the car, the truck's driver's side door opened soundlessly, but the man inside it gave a low growl as he stepped out. He was a couple of inches taller than Lyn's far-from-diminutive five foot nine, but that was the only defining characteristic that could be made out. He was wearing a heavy gray trenchcoat, a black hat pulled low over his eyes, and a scarf wrapped around his neck and face. It could be no accident, Lyn knew instantly; he was trying to hide his identity.

That was when she spotted the rifle in his hands and her eyes widened. "Drop it or I drop you!" she ordered, aiming over the hood of the car at the man, who growled something that sounded like a curse and dodged back behind his own truck. Lyn's eyes narrowed again and shifted from right to left suspiciously; he was up to something, she could tell already.

It was the pounding of heavy boots that alerted her to the fact that he was making a break for it – but not in the direction he should be running, which was away from her. He was about to pass right by the car, from the sound of it. Running after Jordan.

Lyn had just enough time to throw herself around the side of the car before he passed by; as she had predicted, he fired as he went, the bullet leaving a deep scratch in the side of the car as it sped through the place she had been crouched just a second before. _Jordan'll have your head for that – but she's out of sight, you'll have to deal with me first…_

Two rounds were fired from Lyn's nine millimeter before she had even fully stood up, but the man had ducked low and half jumped headfirst into the trees, dodging the first shot and causing the second to be buried in the bark. _Dadburn it, he's not bad…_

Lyn growled, too, as she set off after him, burying a couple more bullets in the trees for cover as she crossed the distance between the vehicles and the woods. She was convinced that the chase through the trees would be her advantage. She was from Tennessee, she grew up in the country; the woods were her turf. Surprisingly, though, the man kept a good stride a short distance ahead of her and to her right.

_Okay, he's better than I thought,_ she grudgingly admitted to herself, picking up the pace and clearing a pair of fallen pines in one jump. _Just gotta buy a little more time… Jordan, you better be freaking running, because this is gonna be risky enough without the chance you'll hear and try to act stupid and turn around…_

Upon hearing heavy footsteps behind her, Jordan turned her head. "Shit!" she muttered to herself. There was a man following her – holding a rifle in hand and gaining fast. She sped up, starting to sprint and panicking slightly.

_Crap – no choice, now. Here goes nothing._ Lyn set hew jaw and switched her nine millimeter to her left hand, pulling a short throwing dagger from her pocket with her right. She only allowed herself a couple of seconds to aim – there just wasn't enough time – but her throw was right on the mark. The blade caught in the shoulder of the trenchcoat, pinning it to a tree.

_And here comes the stupid part._ Lyn didn't give herself time to do more than take a deep breath, because otherwise it was likely she would have thought twice. Instead, she put on a sudden burst of speed, cut to the right, and barreled straight into the man in the trenchcoat, pulling him free from the tree but sending both of their weapons flying.

"KEEP RUNNING!" she thundered just before she tumbled over and hit the ground, the breath knocked out of her as the man she had just tackled fell on top of her. He then went thudding off and onto the ground as they both were sent sliding through the fallen pine needles from the force of her momentum and slammed into trees a couple of feet apart.

Jordan's eyes bulged as she watched Lyn tackle the guy to the ground; watched them slide, watched them come to a stop. Then Lyn's words sank in, and Jordan turned and started running as fast as she could toward what she hoped was the Roadhouse.

The man growled low under his breath as he stood, and Lyn rolled over quickly and regained her feet, pulling another, longer blade from the thigh pocket of her pants. Her eyes glared daggers into his as she realized for the first time that he had lost his hat – of course he had, he had been running through woods and tackled to the ground, for heaven's sake – and his eyes were visible.

They were a perfectly inconspicuous shade of hazel – blue and light brown, and narrowed to slits. They made him look dangerous, but not as much so as the long machete that he proceeded to pull from somewhere inside his trenchcoat. It gleamed in a patch of sunlight that filtered through the leaves, drawing Lyn's gaze and making her heart skip a beat.

No, she was overreacting. She could do this. She had fought stronger opponents with larger weapons before, this would be no different. It was all a matter of experience and determination, and she had no small supply of both. And her green eyes narrowed, too, as she thought firmly, _And I won't underestimate him this time._

Jordan broke through the trees, nearly tripping on a protruding tree root on her way out, and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the Roadhouse about three hundred yards away.

_Okay, Lyn, focus. You need to stall. Let's try talking. First question should be obvious enough._ "_Why_ are you after us!?" she demanded in a rather coarse voice, her eyes fixed on his for any sign of his intent. That was simple enough; she could read the expression in them. Cold, meticulous, calculating… murderous. He was out for blood, that much was clear.

A louder, deeper growl escaped the man's throat as he suddenly lunged, swinging the machete like a samurai sword and then following up with a sharp jab, the first of which Lyn backstepped to dodge and the second of which she had to jump behind a tree to avoid.

"Not very talkative?" she asked, concentrating on keeping her voice level and her ears pricked for any sound of movement. He was advancing, that much was certain; his boots were too heavy and made noise in the pine needles even when he was trying to be stealthy. Lyn counted the steps carefully, gauging his distance; he seemed to be teetering on the edge of indecision, walking a line between attacking her and taking off after Jordan again. Lyn tightened her grip on her own blade and resolved to force him to choose the former.

As it stood, the only advantage she had was surprise, and Lyn was never one to squander her advantages. Gritting her teeth, she suddenly leapt out swinging, ripping the sleeve of his trenchcoat in two places before he retaliated. This time she wasn't fast enough on the retreat to completely dodge his attacks and was dealt a cut on her left forearm for her trouble.

There was no time to check how deep it was, just to let out a low hiss of pain, because the next second he took a heavy swing at her head. It was close that time, so close that she could feel the blade against a few errant strands of hair as she ducked. But his attacks were getting wilder, and as he brought the machete down with what seemed like all his strength and Lyn rolled to the side, her knife sliced into the black material that made up his pant leg.

She wasn't sure whether the blade had actually brought blood when she had cut his sleeve or not, but this time it definitely hit home. Still he didn't speak, just groaned in pain and staggered, and Lyn took advantage of that to kick out hard with her left leg – and her foot connected with the machete, knocking it out of his hands and sending it flying a few yards to one side.

The man was disarmed, but definitely still capable of dealing out damage, because the blow he suddenly landed on her right shoulder sent bolts of pain down her whole side. This time it was Lyn who staggered backward, dropping her own blade and nearly falling over from the sheer force of the pain and contemplating the idea that her shoulder might be dislocated.

So now it was down to hand-to-hand combat with a man who was out for her blood, and she could barely move her right arm. Lyn's eyes were wider now and she was breathing heavily as she sidestepped a powerful uppercut and nearly twisted her ankle in a tree root while struggling to put more distance between them, mentally calling, _Come on, Jordan…_

Jordan burst into the roadhouse, sweat beading on her face and neck. "Wendy!? Jo!?" she cried, almost yelling. About ten hunters turned around, raising their eyebrows at her appearance. "Heh… finally! Been wanting a beer for hours!" She turned around and backed toward the counter, where Wendy was staring at her as if she thought she were insane. Thankfully, there was only one hunter at the counter within earshot; he seemed drunk, thankfully. "Lyn… pickup truck… woods… running… guns… come… now!"

Wendy dropped the three-quarters-empty bottle of tequila she had been pouring into a glass for the drunk hunter, and before it shattered against the ground she had already hissed out, "Where is she!? Is it a demon!?"

Jo hurried into the room upon hearing glass breaking, and her eyes instantly landed on Jordan, covered in dirt and sweat. "What happened!? I heard glass break. And why do you look homeless!?"

"Lyn and the dude in the big pickup. They're fighting in the woods. I have no idea who or what he is. He was covered from head to toe with clothes or some sort of accessory. I ran from the Impala and he was following us and then he came running after me. Lyn's still out there fighting him," Jordan finished, all in one breath, gasping for air at the end of her speech.

"Oh, God," Wendy breathed, her eyes round as silver dollars.

"Hey, toots, c'n I geh mah t'keeluh now?" slurred the drunk guy at the bar.

Wendy ignored him and looked to Jo. "We've gotta go, she could be in trouble. You've got weapons in back, right? We'll have to go that way, too many eyes on Jordan here."

"Yeah… let's hurry." Jo grabbed Jordan's wrist and pulled her through a door in the back to a small, pitch black room. Jo flicked a switch, and Jordan's eyes went wide as they swept the room. It was filled from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, with so many different kinds of weapons and hunting equipment that it made her palms sweaty.

Jordan walked over to one of the racks and lifted a gun belt off it. She strapped it to her waist and filled it with knives and a pair of guns before grabbing a shotgun and holding it in her right hand.

"Come on," Wendy said, her jaw set and her icy eyes hard as she shouldered a rifle and stowed a revolver in the waistband of her jeans. "We should hurry. Lyn's good, but she probably isn't packing more than her nine mil and a couple of knives if she wasn't expecting trouble."

Jo grabbed a few knives and a pistol and ordered, "Let's go." She then pushed her way out of the back door, followed closely by Jordan and Wendy.

Lyn held her right arm close to her side protectively, trying her hardest to ignore the pain that was still bolting through her shoulder and side. She had landed one good punch that had left a cut on the man's eyebrow, but he had retaliated by landing a kick on her right side, which had only added to the agony so that her teeth were now clenched hard in an effort to keep silent as she backed away.

The slash to his trenchcoat sleeve had apparently wounded him, after all, which was just about all that Lyn could see as having improved, so far. The sleeve was bloody, and he was limping slightly on the leg she had stabbed, but still he kept advancing. Why was he so determined to kill her!? And who was he, anyway!? There was something almost familiar about him…

"You a mute or just hiding something?" she growled, trying her hardest to keep her voice unaffected by her current state. He didn't say anything, didn't even seem to care that she had spoken. He just kept advancing, and Lyn kept retreating, trying simultaneously to keep a distance between them and not stray too far from where they had begun this fight. She couldn't afford to go too far, or the others might not be able to find them.

He lunged forward again, and Lyn sidestepped, dodging his blow but slamming into a tree. She let out a low hiss of pain and the next second he was swinging again, splitting her lip and throwing her back a couple of feet against yet another tree. For some reason, though, he didn't approach again; just watched her slam into the bark, which dug gashes in the side of her left arm as she tried to catch herself. She blinked once, slightly dazed, and focused on not falling over. Jordan wouldn't be much longer, just a few more minutes. Lyn could hold out for a few more minutes.

"You are, aren't you?" she coughed out, shaking back her hair and trying to ignore the blood in her mouth. "You're someone I know, that's why you're hiding your face and not talking. That's why your fighting style's familiar, that's why you know mine. Who are you?"

For a moment, Lyn thought he was taken aback by what she had said, because he took a step backward. Then he knelt down and for a split second she thought maybe the leg wound was getting to him. But he wasn't buckling, he was conspiring, because a second later his left hand stretched out toward the ground. Lyn's heart skipped a beat and then started pounding double-time as she saw her own Browning pistol within easy reach of where he was crouched on the ground.

Time almost seemed to enter suspended animation as her mind started working even faster than her heart and she weighed her options. Running wouldn't help now, he was too close, and the nine mil still had two rounds in it. She could try to dodge, but that wasn't likely at this range. Attacking was no go, either; it would only put her closer when he got his hands on the gun. She still had one throwing dagger left, but it was in her right pocket, and that would be hard to reach with her left hand and almost impossible to throw with her right, which she could barely move.

_I'm gonna die._ The thought seemed almost ludicrous as it echoed inside her head. _He's gonna shoot me with my own gun, and I'm gonna die out here. … No, I'm not, dadburn it! Jordan's safe, she and Wendy and Jo are coming, I'm not giving up before it's even over._ Her eyes were frantic and her fingers fumbled as she tried to reach the knife in her pocket.

There was a resounding crack as a gunshot split the silence, and Lyn blinked, confused. She didn't feel anything. Well, nothing that she hadn't felt before, anyway. Then she heard the wordless yell of the man in the trenchcoat, watched him disappear into the trees. And then a second later came the sound of Wendy cursing at the top of her lungs, and Lyn closed her eyes in relief. No, nobody was dying here today. Not this time.

"Dammit, he moved right when I had a clean shot," Wendy growled, running after him and giving chase, but there was no use. His retreating back was already lost among the trees.

Jo looked around, keeping guard, while Jordan ran over to Lyn. "Hey, hey, hey! You okay? Sorry it took so long… damn amazing weapons room distracted me for a few minutes." She looked her friend over and said, "I told you I shoulda stayed… Can you walk? We gotta get outta here. Sonuva bitch could come back soon…"

"I'll be fine," Lyn said coarsely, shaking her head. "Ain't nothing wrong with my legs, though I'm mildly surprised he can still run after I stabbed his… Seriously, I'll live. Trust me." She forced a crooked grin, which made her wince and dab at the cut on her lip with the back of her hand. Probably not a smart move, if she had thought about it, because it just showed off the knife wound on her forearm.

"Jesus… Lyn, let's go. We gotta get you cleaned up. Jo, will you and Wendy be okay?" Jordan asked, looking up at Jo.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Hurry up and haul ass outta here in case he gets away."

"'Kay. Up an' at 'em, Lyn…" Jordan's brow wrinkled as she helped Lyn up.

"Okay, okay, okay – new rule," Lyn said with a grimace as she regained her feet. "No touching my arms. The left one's obvious, but I think he might've dislocated my right shoulder. And somebody get my gun and knives, dadburn it…"

Jordan rolled her eyes and looked around, seeing a few knives lying a few feet away from each other and grabbing them, but not seeing the gun, though. "I think the dude took your gun… Let's just get out of here!" Jordan stuffed the knives in the holster around her waist and started walking, Lyn right behind her.

"Freaking thief… Fine, but you're wrong, anyway. I was right to have you run, he was after you first. And there's something else…" Lyn paused for a second and said slowly, "I think we might know him. He kept his face covered, wouldn't talk… and he knew how I fight."

Jordan breathed a sigh of relief when she could finally see her car again and there was no F-250 in sight, but her brow furrowed after hearing Lyn's words. "Maybe he's just good at anticipating stuff? Or maybe he's got the Shining. I think I'd prefer that to the alternative…" She grinned, sideglancing Lyn.

"Oh, my baby! I missed you so much! I – who the – what the!? WHO THE HELL SCRATCHED MY CAR!? SON OF A BITCH!" she yelled upon finally reaching her car.

"Yeah… that would be from where he almost shot me… But I'm fine, thanks for asking," Lyn said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, I'm glad you're fine… BUT I'M SERIOUSLY GONNA KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T CARE IF WE KNOW HIM!" she almost screamed, opening the passenger-side door for Lyn.

"Well, I guess there's good news for you, anyway," Lyn said, smirking. "You get to drive again!"

"Shut up…" Jordan closed the door behind Lyn, skulked around to the other side of the car, pulling open the driver's side door, getting in, and slamming it behind her. "That sonuva bitch _will_ pay…" she muttered under her breath before starting up the car and speeding off without a second glance behind her.


	9. Unveiling

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: Yay, another chap!

Jordan: Like half of which we wrote on the phone and it took two hours because I had to write by hand and then read it off for Lyn to type…

Lyn: Good thing I type 140wpm, I guess.

Jordan: Yes. And so because of all the hard work on this chap, you must review! You're obligated or something!

* * *

**Chapter Nine – Unveiling**

It was well after two in the morning, and last call at Harvelle's had been more than two hours ago. Lyn and Jordan had helped Wendy and Jo clean up, and everyone had crashed before one. Well, almost everyone.

Lyn pulled a pen and piece of paper from her duffel, sighing quietly. The blue ink glistened but dried quickly as she wrote in a neat script,

_Wendy and Jo,_

_We are both really sorry about everything since we showed up. We would have said goodbye before we left, but were afraid you might try to stop us. But we can't stay here any longer if people are after us. Please understand, and don't worry – we'll be fine._

_Lyn and Jordan_

She left the paper on the bar and then shouldered her duffel again and silently exited the Roadhouse. After climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala, she sighed and looked sideways at Jordan. "Okay, let's go. At least now they'll know we weren't dragged off in our sleep or something, we owe them that much."

Jordan sighed and opened the driver's side door. "Let's get out of here, then…"

"We're good on gas, right?" Lyn questioned, raising her right eyebrow. "We don't need to have to stop for at least a couple of towns, so nobody remembers us in case… _somebody_ comes looking." Of course, 'somebody' did include Wendy and Jo, but mostly it extended to the man in the trenchcoat. Lyn still couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him, and it was eating at her.

"Yeah, we're good. For a little bit, at least." She ducked into the car, closing the door behind her.

Lyn sighed heavily. "All right. We'll head west, I guess; they'll probably expect us to head back toward home. We'll find somewhere to crash before dawn, if we make good enough time."

Somewhere around four-thirty, they stopped in a little town near the state line. True to her usual routine, Lyn investigated to be sure there was a spyhole in the door, and checked to be sure they hadn't been followed before she allowed herself to collapse on one of the beds. Jeez, it had been a very long day…

Jordan flopped down on the other bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

It was the dark before the dawn when another set of headlights reflected off of the windows of the small motel Jordan's Impala was parked in. The lights were cut, though, before they could hit the slightly-cracked curtains of the room Lyn and Jordan were in. As it was, the shadow that momentarily cut off the shaft of moonlight across Lyn's face only made her flinch, and it wasn't until the soft but unmistakable sound of a credit card sliding back the cheap motel deadbolt that Lyn tensed, peering out from beneath her lashes as her hand clenched around the handle of the knife under her pillow.

The door opened only slightly, and Lyn mentally yelled for Jordan to wake up but didn't actually move yet. If she did and the burglar was unarmed, he would run before she could catch him; if she did and he was armed, he would shoot her before she could do anything.

There was the soft grating of metal against metal as someone with a practiced hand used a knife to pull back the chain from the outside. Lyn's heart beat faster as, through the shroud of her eyelashes, she could see the tall, broad-shouldered silhouette of a man appear in the slowly opening door. It was him again, it had to be. She couldn't believe he was still after them, that he had managed to follow them all the way here.

_Come on, Lyn, you have to do something! Surprise him before he can figure out you're awake and who's who…_

Biting back an urge to throw the knife at him even though it was definitely no throwing dagger, Lyn suddenly rolled over and leapt in the same move, tackling Jordan off of the other bed and onto the floor behind it. "He's here," she hissed frantically, fighting to ignore the renewed throbbing in her shoulder and forearm after hitting the floor. "Take this!" She shoved the knife in her friend's hand and reached under the bed, searching blindly for the revolver beneath the bedskirt.

Jordan's eyes went wide and she suppressed a gasp. "Who's here!?" she hissed, grabbing the knife from Lyn.

A low growl was the only answer Lyn gave as she continued to rummage around under the bed. The man in the doorway took a step forward, then froze as there was a metallic click and Lyn shot up from the other side of the bed, aiming the revolver at the doorway.

"You have ten seconds!" she warned, but the next second, the lights clicked on and the man was revealed to be holding Lyn's own Browning nine millimeter. With a faint gasp, she ducked low again, muttering something inaudible under her breath.

Shooting a sideways glance at Jordan, Lyn whispered, "_Him_ him! He must have followed us somehow!" _Dadburn it, what the crap are we gonna do now!? Could try shooting at him… somebody's bound to hear it and come… but they'd show up too late, he'd have plenty of time to return fire and kill us both… and even if they caught him, he could easily dispose of them and get away…_

"Shit on a single… Okay, Lyn… this has gone on long enough… I'm sick of it and I'm not gonna let you get hurt. No matter what happens, just run," Jordan hissed back as she stood up, her hands out in front of her.

"I know you're not after the both of us. Don't drag her into this. Take me, if you want. Do whatever you want, just don't hurt her," she said, her voice barely audible.

Lyn growled something unintelligible and tried to ignore the million reasons playing in her head of why this was a horrible idea as she crouched, ready to jump or run or shoot the freaking coward if he took the very clean shot he had right now.

The man in the coat remained silent, reinforcing Lyn's suspicions that he knew one or both of them would recognize his voice. However, he shook his head in a very clear denial of Jordan's words and switched to pointing the gun at the top of Lyn's head, which was just barely visible, and motioning upward with the other gloved hand. The message was simple and clear: _Stand up now or you die anyway._

Jordan looked from Lyn to the man, her hand creeping to her waistband as she pulled her knife out slowly. She jumped at him, knife held outward in her fist as she tackled him to the ground and held it to his throat.

"Make a move and you die," she growled, smashing his wrist under her fist and successfully knocking the gun out of his hand before grabbing it in her left hand and throwing it to Lyn, who caught it with her free hand.

"Finally," Lyn growled, standing up. "Keep your freaking paws or talons or whatever the crap you have off of my weaponry!" She paused for a second, then her eyes narrowed and the repositioned the nine millimeter in her hand so that she could point it at him, too. "But that's not it, though. You hide and won't talk, and I know you can. You're human and you don't want us to know. _Who are you_?"

The only response the man in the trenchcoat gave was a low growl and a sideways look at Jordan that wished her a slow and torturous death.

"Don't wanna talk? Fine…" Jordan pulled the hat off his head and unwound the scarf from his neck and face. Her eyebrows pulled together and her eyes widened in shock.

"No," Lyn whispered, freezing in place with her eyes full of shock. "No, no way! It's – it's gotta be a shapeshifter or something, that's not possible!"

The newly unmasked man took advantage of their momentary stunning to knock the knife away from his throat, receiving a short cut through the sleeve of his trenchcoat but regaining his feet and beginning to back away, toward the door.

"Sorry, Lyndi," Keith Coltrane hissed, a horrible sort of half-crazy, crooked grin crossing his face, "but you're wrong. I'm exactly who I look like, that's why I know how you think, how you fight. And that's why I'm _gonna_ kill both of you. Or are you gonna shoot me, Lyn? Gonna stab me, Jordan?"

"Keith… why are you doing this?" Jordan's eyes were wide, unbelieving. She grabbed the knife quickly, backing towards Lyn and holding the knife, ready to defend them both.

Keith's smile shifted into a look of disgust. "You have to ask that question, after all this time? After we all trusted you, believed you – both of you? After you –" he glared at Jordan – "turned out to be a freaking demon, and you…" He looked repulsed as he switched his gaze to Lyn. "You get my brother killed… and then you protect the scum he spent his life fighting. So now do you understand _why_ I'm _doing this_?"

"You don't know what you're saying," Lyn hissed, but she was fighting to keep her hands from shaking. "Jordan isn't –"

"She's a demon!" Keith thundered, taking an unexpected step forward.

Lyn flinched, but neither lowered the gun nor fired. Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet as she said, "You don't understand. Kyle would have listened."

The muscles in Jordan's jaw clenched. "I'm not a full demon. I don't even have a demon's powers. You should get the whole story before you try and kill people." She adjusted her grip on the knife and went on, "And you must know that we're not gonna go down without a fight. I don't want to kill you, Keith. I will, if I have to, but please… just leave," she said, her voice quiet as her hand clenched around the handle of the knife.

"Of course you would," Keith said, his hazel eyes sharp as they bored into hers. "But that's not the question, is it?" He switched his gaze to Lyn, staring into her green eyes just as fiercely as he had just been gazing at Jordan. "Is it, Lyn? _You_ weren't coldblooded enough for that five years ago. You wouldn't stand for it. So what about now?"

There was a ringing silence following his words, and though Lyn didn't lower the gun, the turmoil in her eyes was enough of an answer. "I didn't think so," he whispered, and then his jaw set. "But you're the reason my brother's gone. I'm _not_ the same person I was five years ago. Remember that."

His eyes were cold and his expression hard as he took three long steps backward and then disappeared into the darkness. And as soon as he was out of sight, Lyn gave up on trying to hide the fact that she was now shaking from her very core and dropped both guns on the bed before she could accidentally fire one.

Jordan took a long, shaky breath inwards, then released it sharply and closed her eyes. "You okay, Lyn?"

Lyn stared down at the bed in silence for a long moment before meeting Jordan's gaze. "No, I'm not okay," she said in a hoarse whisper. "We just got attacked for the second time in two days, Keith – _Keith_," she repeated as if she couldn't believe what she was saying, "is the one who's been trying to kill us, and no matter what you say, Jordn, this is _my_ fault."

She took a shaky breath and sat down on the bed, shaking her hed. "He's right," she said in a voice that was barely audible. "Kyle died because of me. This happened to Keith because of me. And he's right, I can't watch him die. Turn his eyes blue and curl his hair and he's Kyle's image. I can't do that again."

Jordan sat down across from her and said slowly, "Lyn, it wasn't your fault. Keith just wants to blame someone, but he doesn't wanna blame himself…"

"I'm not doing the it-is, no-it-isn't thing tonight, Jordan," Lyn said, her jaw set firmly. "You were wrong, he isn't just after you. And at least you can know he only hates you because of what you are, that's nothing you could ever have changed."

"'What' I am!?" Jordan paused for a second, not trusting herself to speak, when suddenly a thought hit her like a train, leaving her mind reeling. "How does he even know, Lyn? I mean, would Wendy tell? Would Jo tell? Because they are the only two people we told. Unless you've been talking, which I know a hundred percent you most likely weren't."

Lyn thought her blood might have frozen for one split second. Wendy? No, no, Wendy wouldn't do that. And she didn't know Jo, but if Wendy trusted her, Lyn couldn't believe the blond woman would tell anyone, either…

"Wait a second," she said suddenly, her gaze flicking up to meet Jordan's. "Who _we_ told? Aren't we forgetting a couple of gung-ho, stab-first-ask-questions-later morons? He even said in the hospital to be careful, because word gets around!" she declared, suddenly standing up and looking furious. "That freaking lying rat! I swear, I'll have his egotistical, spiky-haired head on a plate if it was him…"

Jordan's mouth hung open. "Son of a bitch… I'll kill that stupid dude… Smack him so hard he forgets his name … Kick him so hard he'll feel my foot up his ass for the rest of his life… That no good, girl-almost-killing, holier-than-thou jerk…" She finally stopped ranting, breathing heavily, almost like an angry bull.

Lyn didn't answer, just growled low under her breath and grabbed her bag, unzipping it and turning it upside down so that a pile of jeans, t-shirts, and other various items of clothing fell onto her bed. She began rummaging through them, looking for the pair of jeans she had been wearing at the hospital that day. "It's in here somewhere…"

Jordan cocked her head to one side. "You lost your mind, woman!? What's in there somewhere!?"

"This!" Lyn announced, holding up a piece of paper and glaring at it with narrowed eyes as she grabbed her cell phone off the bedside table. "If this really _is_ his phone number, he's stupider than I thought."

Jordan's right eyebrow rose as she grabbed both objects from Lyn's hands, dialing in 866-907-3235 and hitting send as she pressed the phone against her ear.

"Tell him from me that if he's the one who told Keith, I'll impale him on a pike and leave him for the crows," Lyn growled as her only comment to the fact that Jordan had just stolen her cell phone.

After four rings, someone picked up. It was a few seconds after that that a man's voice, sounding more than a little groggy, asked, "'Lo?"

"You stupid son of a bitch! I thought I hated you when you nearly killed me, then showed up at the hospital trying to get back on Lyn's good side, but talking to people we know and turning them against us because you're too much of a coward to come and finish the job yourself!? I didn't think it was possible to hate you even more, but you've proven me wrong, you jackass!" Jordan nearly screamed at Dean, gesturing wildly with her hands and standing up, starting to walk around the room aimlessly.

Dean sounded genuinely confused as he said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa – slow down. This is Jordan, right? What are you talking about?"

"Yes, it's Jordan, fool! And you know damn well what I'm talking about, so I suggest if you don't want me to inflict any more pain on you than I had originally planned, then cut the clueless act."

"Look, just calm down for a second and tell me what you're talking about. I already apologized to your friend at the hospital, and I tried to apologize to you, but she wouldn't let me, and there's nothing I can do about that. What more do you want?"

"Oh, okay. Well, I guess you chose the more painful option, then. So, let's see. One of our old friends stalked us and tried to kill us… twice! But of course you already knew that, asshole," Jordan replied, her voice icy.

"Wait, what?" Dean objected almost instantly. Well, at least his reflexes were improving; maybe that was a sign he was actually awake now. "Why the hell would I have anything to do with that!?"

"… Because you're a moron!?" Jordan shot back.

"You're the one who's not understanding what I'm saying, here," Dean growled. "Look, I swear to God I don't know any of your old friends, and even if I did, I already told your friend at the hospital that I didn't tell anybody. Not then, not now, all right!?"

"Dean, I'm sick of this. We're going to find you… both of you. And we're going to kill you. I'm sick of dealing with you two. Goodbye, Dean Winchester."

Jordan snapped the phone shut and slammed it down on the table, and Lyn growled, "I'm telling you – impale upon a pike and leave for the crows."


	10. The Ambush

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: So yeah, this got lost somewhere during the move between my old computer and this computer. But I have it now so now I post it!

**Chapter Ten – The Ambush**

"Bull Creek Lodge," Jordan read aloud, her eyes fixed on the sign of the motel they were just pulling into. "Sounds more like a place for game hunters than supernatural hunters. You sure this is the place?"

"Positive," Lyn said grimly. "My contact in town mentioned the place specifically. Black '67 Impala, two gorilla men who needed shaves and carried around duffel bags. Sounds pretty concise to me."

"Alright," Jordan agreed with a nod. "I'll park around back so they won't see the car when they get back… You have the room number?"

"A18."

"We're set then. Got everything?"

"Don't I always?" Lyn asked with a smirk as they parked and she got out of the car and threw her black-and-purple duffel over her shoulder.

"You're sure you can pick these locks?" Jordan asked skeptically as she eyed the door of room A18.

"O ye of little faith," Lyn said, rolling her eyes. "Did I not once break into a maximum security cell to spring Jesse after he got collared for being in a cemetery after dark?"

"Point taken."

The door swung open and Lyn cleared it before motioning to Jordan to come inside. Jordan set her jaw grimly and took up a position behind the door. "And now we play the waiting game…"

---

"Well, if it's not a witch, what the hell is it?" Dean growled in annoyance as he and his brother walked back to their room.

"I don't know, Dean," Sam said impatiently. "That's why we need more _research_."

"You and your research," Dean grumbled. "I swear, Sammy, one of these days –"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence because just as they had walked into the room, Lyn caught him with a blow to the back of his head that left him dazed. Sam barely had time to widen his eyes before Jordan put a gun to his temple and ordered, "Sit down in the chair."

She gestured toward two simple wooden chairs in the middle of the room, one of which Lyn was currently tying Dean to, a blade held threateningly at his throat as she did so.

Sam did as he was told and it was around the same time that Jordan was standing up straight after tying him down that Dean's head started to clear enough for him to realize what was going on – and recognize who was doing it.

"What the hell do you two want?!"

"The truth," Lyn snapped, her newly recovered nine millimeter in her hand and pointing, again, right between Dean's eyes.

"I told you the truth!" he shot back, growling angrily.

"Let us go!" Sam added, trying to pull his wrists free but being very conscious of the weapons trained on him and his brother. "Dean, what the hell did you say to them?! I told you not to go to that hospital!"

"Hey, don't try to blame this on me!" Dean argued. "They've got it in their heads that we've been telling people to come after them!"

"Look," Sam said, trying his best ambassador-like voice, his eyes trained carefully on Jordan's. "The only person we talked to was our friend Bobby because he was the one who told us you were a demon. But he swore he wouldn't tell anyone."

"Yeah, well somebody lied," Lyn snarled. "A guy we used to hunt with showed up twice in one week and tried to kill us because he knew. Either of you wanna tell me how that happened?"

"We don't know!" Dean almost yelled. "Look, I'm telling you – I said we would leave you alone and we have! Probably someone you told –"

"Don't you even try to blame anyone else!" Jordan interrupted. "Nobody else knows but Lyn, Wendy, Jo, and you two."

"And who has the biggest mouth on that list?" Lyn added, her finger twitching toward the trigger as she glared at Dean.

"Whoa, come on!" Dean tried to reason, his eyes going wide. "We didn't tell anybody, okay? I swear!"

"They're not gonna talk, Lyn," Jordan said. "Let's just get this over with."

"Last chance," Lyn warned, her green eyes going darker. "Why did you send Keith after us?"

"I don't even know a Keith!" Dean yelled in frustration. "So what, you're just gonna kill us in cold blood while we're tied to chairs?!"

"What, you mean like you nearly did to me?" Jordan yelled back.

"I apologized for that, I said I wouldn't jump to conclusions like that again, and –"

This time Dean was interrupted by a crash as the motel door was knocked off its hinges. Splinters of wood flew in every direction and Jordan and Lyn turned just in time to see Keith standing framed in the doorway.

"Should have figured you'd show up," Jordan snarled. "Come to help your buds here?"

"Them?" Keith asked before snickering and adjusting the aim of the rifle he currently had pointed at Jordan's chest. "Why would I care about them? I'm here for you two, same as always."

"Not the same as always," Lyn corrected him. "If it was the same as always, you'd be on our side."

"I don't side with demons and murderers," Keith snarled. "Now put down the weapons or I put a hole in her you won't be able to fix."

Lyn and Jordan both carefully placed the handguns on the floor and kicked them away. Dean blinked and switched his gaze to Lyn. "Murderers? Who'd you kill?"

"No one," Lyn said, her voice going softer than usual.

"Liar!" Keith thundered, a manic look in his eyes as he switched the rifle to point at Lyn. "My brother's dead because of you! Mom died after I left to find you because she couldn't take being alone! You killed my entire family, how dare you play innocent!"

"I didn't kill anyone!" Lyn yelled back, her voice about an octave higher than usual. "Kyle knew it was dangerous –"

"Of course it was dangerous. People have a tendency to die around you, don't they, Lyndi?" Keith asked scathingly. "Even when we were kids – did you ever tell Nicole's parents what really happened?"

No one could miss the change that came over Lyn's face then, not even Dean. It was like this Keith guy's words had sapped the fighting spirit right out of her. Even the green of her eyes seemed dimmed.

"Shut up, Keith!" Jordan yelled, her fists clenched at her sides. "You think you can call her a murderer because she's a hunter and supernatural nut jobs are always after her and her family?! You wanna talk about a murderer?! How many innocent people have _you_ killed?! How much blood's on _your_ hands?! Huh?!"

"I won't be called a murderer by a demon," Keith growled, switching to pointing the rifle back at Jordan. "Just for that, you get the honor of dying first."

If Keith had been looking at Lyn, he would have seen the sudden surge of fury that swelled up in her eyes, blotting out all reason and self-concern. As it was, the only one who saw it was Dean who had no choice but to look at Lyn because he was tied to the chair right in front of her. And, well, he _could_ have shouted a warning but frankly this Keith guy seemed like he could use a good ass-whooping.

One second, Lyn had been staring straight forward, glassy-eyed and almost listless; the next, she had lunged forward and wrenched the rifle from his grasp. It fired once, lodging a bullet in the ceiling before it slid under the couch.

Keith took a blow to the jaw before he got over the shock of Lyn's attack and barely kept her from breaking his nose. She blocked his first punch but then caught one that busted her lip. Jordan started to move forward but then Keith pulled a knife longer than his hand from somewhere within his trenchcoat and held the blade to Lyn's throat.

"One more step and you'll be taking a bath in her blood," he growled.

"Hey, Keith?" Lyn interjected as a thin line of blood trailed down from where the edge of the blade pressed lightly against her skin. "You really should've dropped by the dojo more instead of chasing girls."

Both her hands closed on his arm and she dropped her weight, pulling the blade down and away from her neck before throwing him over her shoulder. He landed on the floor with a crash that shook the building and Dean's and Sam's eyebrows both shot up. You could almost read the thoughts in both their eyes: _Damn_, this chick had skills.

However, it seemed that Keith also had skills because as he fell, he pulled a shorter knife from his pocket and sliced a long line down the side of Lyn's leg. She fell with a hiss of pain and then the next thing she knew, he was on his feet again with the revolver that had been pulled from under the bed pointed at Jordan's head to prevent her from moving to her friend's aid.

"Enough," he snarled, blood dripping down the side of his face from where he had hit it on the foot of the bed. "You're all going to stand still and die in an orderly manner, all right?!"

"Since when did I ever listen to you?" Jordan asked, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"Hey, why are we dying?!" Dean objected. "What did we do?!"

"You're here with them," Keith said coldly. "That's enough reason."

"You always were a fool, Keith," Lyn said from where she was trying to put pressure on her leg to stop the bleeding, "but I never knew just how much of one until right now."

Keith smirked and turned back to her, raising her off the ground by her hair. "Was that a volunteer to be the first to die?"

"No," Lyn hissed through gritted teeth. "It was a volunteer to do this."

With surprising speed for someone who a moment ago had been lying motionless on the floor, Lyn struck the nerve at Keith's wrist that caused his finger to jerk back from the trigger before knocking the gun from his hand. He drew back to hit her but then her other hand, the one that had seemed to be putting pressure on her leg, pulled a knife from the thigh pocket of her jeans and drove it into his calf.

With a cry of pain, Keith dropped her and wrenched the knife from his leg. Then he stood facing her, she on the ground and he leaning all his weight on his one good leg, both holding a knife ready to throw.

"You know I've got better aim, kid," Lyn said hoarsely, her green eyes fixed unblinkingly on his hazel ones.

Keith smirked. "Who says I'm aiming at you?"

The knife left his hand a split second before he turned on his heel and put on a surprising burst of speed to make the cover of the door. Lyn didn't see this; she shouted her warning of, "Jordan, get down!" and threw herself at her friend, knocking her to the floor just as the knife whizzed over their heads and buried itself in the wall.

Jordan hit her head on the wall, stunning her for a moment, and when she came back to her senses Keith's truck was pealing out of the parking lot. "Damn it!" she yelled, getting up and running toward the door, but he was already long gone.

"While you're up, get me the first aid kit out of the trunk, would you?" Lyn muttered from where she was leaning against the wall and breathing heavily. "The good one with the suture needle, I'm gonna need it…"

Jordan nodded and went out to the car. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were staring as if they had never seen anything quite like this before. Finally Sam spoke up: "So do you believe us _now_?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't get whiny," Lyn grumbled, wrenching the knife Keith had thrown out of the wall and picking herself up off the floor. She cut the ropes binding both men's hands and added, "You can get your own ankles loose, neither of you are bleeding profusely." Then she proceeded to half sit and half fall onto the nearest bed, dragging her wounded leg up after her to examine the wound.

"You let them loose?" Jordan asked as she came back in, still a little edgy after the whole almost getting killed by them thing. "You're sure we can trust them?"

"As much as we can trust anybody," Lyn said with a shrug, taking the first aid kit and opening it on the bed beside her. "Sorry about that, I guess," she added without looking at the Winchesters. "But I think you two already know the whole only-logical-option-not-being-the-right-one thing by now."

"I told you I wouldn't tell anyone," Dean said slowly as he got himself free and walked over to her, then frowned down at the wound on her leg. "You sure you shouldn't go to a hospital for that?"

Lyn actually laughed at that as she sterilized the needle. "Like I've never stitched myself up before!" Then she proceeded to pull back her sleeve and show off a thin line of twelve stitches on her forearm. "That's what he did the last time. I swear, he has some kind of knife fetish or something."

Jordan snickered. "Now, we both know Keith wasn't the one you were getting kinky with."

Lyn glared at her friend. "Remind me why I keep saving your life again?"

Jordan laughed and shook her head. "Because you'd go crazy and destroy half of the continental United States without me. Anyway!" She helped Sam to his feet and looked around at the room. Bullet hole in the ceiling, knife hole in the wall, blood, discarded firearms. Typical aftermath of hunters, in general.

"All right, whatever," Lyn said through gritted teeth as she began to stitch the wound together. "Just give me twenty minutes and we can get the heck out of Dodge."

Sam stared at her. "What? With probably fifty stitches by the time you're through? Are you crazy?!"

"Sammy's got a point," Dean agreed. "You two really should stick around for a while. You wouldn't be much use on your own with a bum leg and arm and we can help keep an eye out for the trenchcoat crusader."

When Lyn looked up at them the distrust in her eyes was apparent. Then again, she was a hunter and hunters were bred to suspect everyone.

"Thanks but no thanks," she said, shaking her head as she went back to stitching her leg. "Jordan and I can take care of ourselves. And you've kind of already tried to kill us yourselves before, so…"

"Well, you tried to kill us too so we're even," Dean shot back.

Jordan bit her lip. "They are right, Lyn," she said slowly. "You just get more banged up every time he shows up and I still have that knife wound…"

"So you want to trust the guys who tried to kill us?!"

"And who you tried to kill," Dean added.

Lyn glared. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to succeed."

"You sure are aggressive for a chick, you know that?"

"I'm a hunter," Lyn corrected him as she tied off the stitch. "If you expect me to back down because you're a guy and four inches taller than me, you're full of it."

"Look, I'm just trying to keep you from killing yourself."

"And you're succeeding!" Jordan interrupted. "Why? Because I have the keys and I say we're staying here!"

Lyn's gaze snapped from Dean to Jordan in a tenth of a second flat as if she couldn't believe who had just been speaking. "What?!"

"Come on, Lyn," Jordan said, taking on a pleading tone. "At least for a day or two until we can make sure your leg doesn't get infected."

"You want to stay _here_? With _them_?"

"Hey, you were the one who let them loose!" Jordan said shrugging. "And well it is pretty obvious they didn't tell Keith anything now considering he threatened to kill them." She sighed and sat down next to her friend. "Come on, Lyn. You have to trust people sometimes. We could use the help."

Lyn growled softly in frustration but her eyes showed that she was thinking. She knew she couldn't change Jordan's mind and in truth she really _wasn't_ in any fit state to take on Keith again right now. And she definitely wasn't about to take on Jordan over this.

"Fine," she said with a sigh, slamming the first aid kit shut to show her disapproval of this plan. "One day."


	11. A Quiet Day

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: Holy crap, we're writing again?!

Jordan: Ohmygosh, for real?!

Lyn: Yeah! And here's the chap to prove it!

**Chapter Eleven – A Quiet Day**

Lyn glared at everyone else as she sat on one of the two queen beds surrounded by newspapers and various occult books. "I am perfectly capable of walking, you know," she said in annoyance. "And if you think you can saddle me with research for _your_ hunt, you have another think coming."

"Lyn, you have 20 stitches in your leg. You can't walk. And since you CAN'T walk, doing research is the most helpful thing you can do," Jordan said as she grabbed her bag.

"19 stitches," Lyn grumbled. "And I recall I could walk well enough to keep you from getting stabbed. And what the heck is so funny?!" she growled at Dean who was currently smirking at her like she was an endless source of amusement.

"Nothing," Dean said and let the smirk fall from his face.

Jordan rolled her eyes, pulled out her hairbrush, began brushing her hair, then looked over to see Sam's nose in a book thicker than her arm.

"Nothing, sure," Lyn muttered, grudgingly picking up one of the old newspapers. "Wonder if these things have comics in them…?"

Sam sensed Jordan staring at him and looked up to meet her gaze, blinking once in confusion. "Something wrong?"

Jordan blushed a light shade of pink. "No, sorry." She looked away and continued to brush her hair, mentally berating herself for staring at Sam.

After looking up, Sam was distracted from his research as Jordan blushed and turned away. He smiled softly; it was kind of cute. And she had pretty hair… Shaking his head, he forced his eyes back to the page he had been reading before. _What's wrong with you, Sam?_

Having scanned every page of the newspaper by this point, Lyn sighed exasperatedly. "Of course, you would manage to find newspapers with not only no supernatural omens but also no comics." She tossed it toward the foot of the bed where it accidentally hit Dean in the back of the head. She managed to contain her laugh to a faint snicker and picked up another paper quickly to hide her grin behind it.

"What the –" Dean touched the back of his head as if checking for any wounds inflicted by said newspaper and then turned toward Lyn. "What the hell?!"

_He's cute and I just made a complete idiot of myself. Wow, way to be…_ Jordan sighed internally and picked up a newspaper from the table in front of her. She pulled her knees up to rest under her chin and opened the paper.

"It was an accident, I swear!" Lyn proclaimed, but she was laughing into her words so that it made them somewhat less believable even if they were true.

Sam looked up again at the commotion and half smiled, turning it into an excuse to make conversation with Jordan as he commented, "I think World War Three may be starting."

Jordan looked up at Sam and grinned. "Just wait until she actually DOES mean to throw stuff at him." She rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Oh so you're telling me that you just accidentally threw a newspaper at my head?!" Dean said incredulously.

"No, I threw it on purpose but it hit you in the head by accident," Lyn clarified, trying hard to stifle her laughter. "What, are you calling me a liar?"

"Hm… Ten bucks on Lyn," Sam said loudly enough for Dean to hear but while smiling at Jordan. She had a nice laugh, he noted mentally.

Jordan laughed again and then bit her lip to stifle it, never able to tear her eyes away from Sam's smile and the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed.

"Whatever," Dean mumbled and glared at Sam.

"Hey!" Lyn objected and this time tossed the paper with expert precision and hit Dean neatly in the back of the head again. "You're not answering my question! And yes, this time that was on purpose."

Sam's smile just grew when he succeeded in making Jordan laugh again. Somehow he thought he liked the sound even more when he was the cause of it. "Any bets? How long you think it'll be before we're all buried in newspaper?"

Jordan smirked. "I'm surprised we aren't already." _Okay, Jordan, don't blow it, don't blow it…_ "Twenty bucks says that someone's getting hit really soon."

Dean turned around and glared at Lyn. "It doesn't matter if I think you're lying because in the little time I've been around you I have realized that there's no talking to you or disagreeing with you."

Lyn's right eyebrow shot up and her expression went from joking to that carefully controlled mask she wore when plotting death and destruction. Her voice was just as cautiously toneless as she responded coolly, "Oh, really?"

"Uh-oh," Sam stage-whispered, looking sideways at Jordan. "Think we should take cover behind the furniture? Something tells me this is about to explode…"

Jordan bit her lip to mask the hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble out of her throat. "Heads are gonna fly…" She got up, calmly walked behind Sam, and knelt down behind him, laying her hands on his shoulders and lifted her head up to peer over.

"Yes, really." Dean stared Lyn down, his gaze not faltering though he knew Lyn was wanting to rip his head off.

"Uh-huh," Lyn said, nodding slowly but her eyes never leaving his. "Well, why don't you try something else then, smart aleck? Or are you afraid of a girl with 31 stitches?"

Sam completely lost track of what was going on as Jordan hid behind him. Where her hands rested on his shoulders felt very warm and he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. It was a moment before he asked softly, "Using me for a human shield?"

"Yep." Jordan grinned and her stomach went fluttery as she realized what she was doing. She thanked the gods that she was behind him or else he could have seen that she turned thirteen shades of bright red. She took a deep breath and then, mustering every ounce of sarcasm she had, said, "Got a problem with that?"

"Sweetheart, I don't hit girls. And even if I did, I still wouldn't hit you. I'd feel bad hitting someone with so many stitches." Dean mock smirked.

"Hm… Too bad for you, then." Newspapers went flying as Lyn lunged forward and clipped him lightly in the side of the head with a hook kick – just hard enough to box his ear and let him know that she could have done a lot more damage if she had wanted to.

Sam blushed a little too but his grin only broadened. He had completely forgotten about Lyn and Dean by this point. "Maybe you should hold on a little tighter and make sure?"

Jordan bit her lip and her smile widened. "I think that's a good idea. You can never be too careful, after all." She gripped Sam's shoulders tighter, surprised that he wasn't yelling at her to get off him.

"Uh, ow! You kicked me!" Dean rubbed his ear with one hand and held his other hand out in front of him to ward off any future attacks that might come his way.

"That would be the idea, yes," Lyn said in a this-is-obvious tone with a roll of her eyes. "What, I'm supposed to let that comment slide just because you won't hit me back? I don't think so."

"No… and we wouldn't want you getting hurt, now would we?" Sam asked with a genuinely soft smile as he looked over his shoulder at Jordan.

Jordan just looked back at Sam staring into his big puppy dog brown eyes. She smiled back at him and her grip loosened on his shoulders to a gentle caress.

Dean clenched his teeth and glared at her, hoping that he could imagine hitting her and it would happen without actually having to himself.

Lyn snickered when Dean continued to do nothing but glare, picked up another newspaper, and whacked him upside the head with it. "Good call. I would've wiped the floor with that spiky mess on top of your head anyway."

Sam relaxed a little and his eyes softened too as they met hers. "So you're gonna trust me to be your human shield without holding me in front of you?"

"I'll take my chances…" Jordan bit the inside of her cheek and struggled to keep from blushing once again.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with my hair. And you know, hitting me with newspapers and kicking me isn't going to make me do anything. I'm the bigger person. I don't need to use violence." Dean smirked smugly.

Lyn actually laughed out loud. "I should've known the hair would be where I'd hit a nerve. You spend more time in the bathroom than Jordan and that's just scary."

Sam smiled softly again. "So you think you can trust me?"

"Definitely." Jordan smiled softly and bit her bottom lip nervously.

Dean death glared. "It didn't strike a nerve, I'm just saying…"

Lyn smirked. "Oh? So you would be totally unaffected if I said that I've dug up, salted, and burned guys with better hair?"

Sam paused and then let his gaze fall, leaning away from her a little as a thought struck him that made him feel uncomfortable. "… So… You forgive me…?"

Jordan pulled her hands back slowly, stood up, and looked down. "I completely forgot about it, actually." She paused and ran her hand through her hair nervously. "Honestly, I would have done the same thing if I were you. I mean, sure, I wish you hadn't done it but I understand why you did. And you don't seem like a bad person. Not at all." Jordan sighed and turned away from him slightly.

_I've definitely blown it, what little chance I had with him is now gone. Way to go, Jordan._ She thought angrily to herself.

"Hey, now. No need to go there." Dean tried to keep the offended look off his face and covered it up with a scowl.

Lyn snickered and shook her head but her eyes still glinted. "Aw, don't act all hurt. I didn't say there aren't some dead guys with worse hair than you."

Sam was silent for a long moment before standing up too and turning her around to face him. His smile was soft and tentative as he said quietly, "Well, you don't seem like a bad person, either."

"I don't even know what kind of person I am anymore. Keith says I'm a demon. If that's true, I wish you guys had finished the job," Jordan said, looking down and biting her lip almost hard enough to break the skin.

"Gee, thanks. That really means a lot," Dean muttered.

Lyn laughed softly and mussed Dean's hair with a smirk. "You know, you look a lot like my cousin's seven-year-old when you pout."

Sam frowned. "Look, we're not sure what you are either yet, but if you were a demon, you would have been exorcised. Maybe some kind of hybrid, I don't know, but that doesn't make you evil, okay?"

Jordan looked up at Sam's face and studied it for any hint of anything suspicious and then sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, I guess…" _Well, that moment's definitely over and it's not coming back._

Dean's eyebrow cocked. "Is that a good thing? Is this seven year old adorable and irresistible? Because if not I can't say that there's any resemblance between the two of us."

Lyn scoffed and whacked him in the head with the newspaper again. "No, sorry; I guess it must have been the not fully developed brain that reminded me of him." Then she blinked and looked at the paper she held in her hand. "Hey… There _are_ comics in this newspaper!"

Sam smiled down at Jordan softly. "You said you trusted me, right? Then trust me now. You're not evil."

Jordan's entire body relaxed and her heart fluttered at the sincerity in Sam's voice. "Yeah, okay." She smiled softly up at him.

Dean squinted his eyes at Lyn as if she was a difficult puzzle that needed solving which in fact, to him, she was. "Oh really? Comics?" he said mockingly.

"Hey, everybody needs something to laugh at and not everyone can just look in the mirror for a good joke like you can," Lyn shot back.

"All right then," Sam said with a smile. "So until further notice, you are Jordan the not-evil not-demon, alright?"

Jordan grinned and rolled her eyes, laughing. "Alright, but remember… I'm trusting you here," she said, half jokingly half seriously.

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed. "Just read your comics," he mumbled, dejected, as he went and sat down on the bed adjacent to Lyn's.

Lyn watched him for a second, frowned softly, and ripped the page she was holding in half. Then she tossed one half at his head and fall back onto her back on the bed, holding the other half above her head to read it. "There you go," she said pleasantly as if it were some strange type of apology. "I don't like those comics so much anyway and you look like you could use a laugh."

Sam chuckled softly and nodded. "I won't let you down."

Dean grabbed the newspaper as it bounced off his head and slid down his chest. He looked over to Lyn who was already reading half of the comics and half smiled. "Thanks," he mumbled, soft enough that he thought only he could hear.

Lyn chuckled softly and pretended she was laughing at the comic strip she was reading but her eyes twinkled in Dean's direction as she thought, _You're welcome, you silly dork._


	12. Three To One

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: And another chapter?! Sheesh, did we have our Wheaties for breakfast or what?!

Jordan: Actually, HBO. –crunch-

**Chapter Twelve – Three to One**

Lyn yawned softly and stretched her stitched arm and leg. They were both still incredibly sore but seemed to be in no danger of becoming infected or busting open anytime soon. Her busted lip, on the other hand, hurt like heck because she was currently eating a dry pop tart for breakfast and it seriously hurt to chew.

"So what time did you figure we'd head out?" she asked Jordan in a normal conversational voice, obviously not foreseeing the affect this simple question would have on the three other people in the motel room.

"Huh?" Jordan's head practically shot up from where she was reading a paperback book and sitting, one knee up, on a chair in the room.

Lyn crumpled up the pop tart wrapper and tossed it into the garbage can like she was making a shot in basketball before answering. "You know, head out, hit the road, be on our merry way. It's been a day and two nights and my leg's obviously not infected, wasn't that the deal?"

"Yeah, right…" Jordan chanced a glance over at Sam, just the quickest of eye movements. "Well, your leg still hurts, doesn't it? I mean, you should stay off your feet until you feel 100% better. You being injured isn't gonna help either of us on a hunt. Besides, how will you drive? I mean, you don't want me driving your car, do you?" Jordan said, pulling every excuse out of her brain.

_It's NOT because I have a thing for Sam. Of course it's not. I'm just looking out for the well-being of Lyn, that's all…_ Jordan assured herself, though not really believing it herself.

"My car?" Lyn asked, staring at her friend. "Jordan, my car's in Joey's back yard three states from here. What the heck are you smoking?"

Sam tried to hide his alarm at the topic but his voice was still a little sketchier than usual as he said slowly, "Well, she has a point about you getting better though. I mean, what if that Keith guy showed up again? He already sliced your arm and your leg so he knows they'll be weak points and he'll try to use that if he gets you alone!"

"Yeah, right! So it'd be stupid not to stay, because we both need to be in the best condition that we can be right now," Jordan quickly added and let her eyes widen sincerely.

Dean looked up from his diner take-out breakfast and his brow wrinkled. "Wait, you're leaving already? You're not better yet! That'd be stupid!"

Lyn stared around at them all. "Okay, when did I become some pity case? I'm perfectly fine! I mean, I humored you with the one day thing, but you seriously expect me to stay in one place for two weeks when I can take these stitches out? Are you serious?"

"Well, yeah!" Sam said, putting down his laptop and staring right back at her. "You could get yourself and Jordan killed if you let somebody find you alone like that!"

"Right! I don't want to die! I like life!" Jordan said, frantically nodding her head.

"Yeah, what she said! She doesn't want to die, and contrary to what you may think, I don't want her to die, either," Dean said.

_Why am I trying so hard to get Lyn and Jordan to stay? They tied us up, almost got us killed, verbally and physically assaulted us…_ Dean tried to figure it out in his head.

"I didn't say you want her to die," Lyn argued, "but if we stay in one place, we're vulnerable, too! And I'm perfectly capable of defending myself no matter how many stitches I happen to have in me."

"Well, maybe you can, but not as well as if you healed first," Sam pressed. "And maybe that would be the difference between life and death!"

Jordan put on her best sad, pouty face. "Are you saying that you're willing to risk my life and yours because you don't get along with someone?"

"Well, granted, I've had an easier time getting along with cottonmouths than with these two considering there have still been loaded firearms involved in more than half of our conversations, but that's not the point. I'm perfectly fine and there's no reason we shouldn't keep going. Keith's got a heck of a lot more to worry about from that wound I gave him than I do from this puny little scratch."

Jordan huffed and resorted to drastic measures. "But Lyn, please can you just do this or me? I'll feel better knowing that you're 100% okay."

Dean watched Jordan whip out the puppy dog eyes and the 'please can you do this for me' with mild amusement. _She's working really hard at this…_ Then he looked over at Sam, who was looking hopeful and desperate. He smirked. _Wow, Sammy, you've got a thing for her, don't you?_

Lyn crossed her arms and glared first at Jordan then at Sam then at Dean and finally at Jordan again. "When the heck did I become the odd man out? Actually, when the heck did you three get on the same side at all?"

Jordan feigned confusion. "I don't know about them, but I just want what's best for you and me."

"I'm not on her side, I just don't think it's a good idea for you to leave before you're better, that's all." Dean thought for a moment and added, "I mean, it's just common sense."

"Yeah, you'll stand a better chance with us until you're healed again, right?" Sam added.

Lyn sighed impatiently and switched her glare to the ceiling. "Fine! It's obvious I'm way outvoted on this, anyway. But I swear, if this comes back to bite us, I'm gonna kill you all myself."

Jordan succeeded in not squealing at the thought of being able to stay with Sam for more time and her heart fluttered at the very thought of it. "Thanks, Lyn!" She smiled sweetly and looked over at Sam who met her gaze for a split second before quickly looking away. Of course, he was concerned that Jordan and Lyn not get hurt… nothing else… nothing else at all… Right?

Dean smirked in victory but there was something nagging at him, something that he definitely wasn't accustomed to feeling. Something that he would ignore just as long as he could.


	13. Unexpected Danger

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: Three chaps in one day?! Has this happened since days of yore?!

Jordan: … No… probably not even then. XD

**Chapter Thirteen – Unexpected Danger**

Sam felt really awkward. Of course, it was all well and good to make conversation with Jordan while they were all in the motel room and Dean and Lyn were arguing and providing that nice distracting background noise, but now he was in the Impala with Jordan. Alone. Going on a coffee run.

So, naturally, he said the first thing that popped into his head: "So… you like… coffee…?"

Then he mentally kicked himself. _Do you like coffee – no, she's going on a coffee run for no reason. Brilliant, Sam._

Jordan looked over at Sam and smiled. "Actually, no. Not really. I prefer a caffeinated tea. I never liked the bitterness of coffee." She smiled wryly.

Sam was a little taken aback. She didn't really like coffee? So… she really had gone with him… just to go with him?

"Oh," he said, trying not to sound like he was fishing. "Sorry, I didn't know. Should I not have asked you to come then…?"

Jordan laughed lightly. "No, I wanted to come, really. I mean, Lyn without her coffee is unpleasant for everyone. And the coffee shop will probably have tea anyway." She smiled and stretched out slightly in the seat.

"Yeah, Dean's the same way," Sam said with a smile. "Think it was a good idea to leave them alone? I mean, obviously we both wanted to get out of there until they get their caffeine but they might kill each other." _… Was that the only reason you came…?_

Jordan laughed and rolled her eyes. "They should be fine for now." She looked over at Sam for a few long moments then realized she was staring, blushed, and looked away.

Sam's smile just grew; he really did love her laugh. "How long do you think 'for now' is, though?" He paused then chanced a sideways glance at her. "Just long enough to run for coffee? Or maybe you wanna grab breakfast…?"

Jordan inwardly squealed and then answered in as confident a voice as she could, "I think we can leave them alone long enough to get some breakfast." She looked over at Sam, met his eyes and smiled.

And so naturally, Sam couldn't help but smile back. Maybe this would turn out to be a good day after all.

---

Dean awoke from another dreamless sleep and stretched languorously on the cheap motel bed. He opened his eyes and looked around for Sam, Lyn, or Jordan. No sign of anybody. He heard the water running in the bathroom and rolled his eyes. Sam was primping. Again.

"Sam, get out of the bathroom, I gotta take a shower!" Dean yelled as he pulled himself up, massaging his swollen back with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the other.

No answer. He got up and walked over to the door. "Sam! Get out of there, already!"

Still no answer. Dean huffed and turned the knob, expecting Sam to be standing there, meticulously brushing his emo-boy hair, but instead he found Lyn. Brushing her teeth and listening to her iPod. Clad in just black underwear.

Lyn meanwhile had been humming along to It's My Life by Bon Jovi for about a minute and a half and so hadn't heard Dean yelling. However, she did catch the movement out of the corner of her eye when the bathroom door opened and at first just glanced over, expecting to see Jordan interrupting to borrow a hairbrush or something. Then she promptly dropped her toothbrush in the sink and yelled through a mouthful of toothpaste, "DEAN WINCHESTER!"

Dean stared at Lyn for a few long moments then backed away slightly. "Oh, er, I'm sorry. I thought Sam was primping and, uh, I didn't know you were in there… uh, yeah… sorry," he mumbled, looking away and feeling, for the first time in a long time, embarrassed at seeing a girl half naked.

"What the freaking heck is wrong with you?!" Lyn demanded, shoving him back and slamming the door then coming back out again a second later wearing a black camisole and denim shorts and a very indescribably angry expression. "Just what kind of voyeuristic pervert are you?!"

Dean held his hands up in front of him. "Hey, look, it was an accident, honestly! I thought you and Jordan went out to get breakfast or coffee or something!"

Lyn was not warded off by his defensive stance but continued to stalk toward him like a very angry lioness. "Oh really?! An accident! So was it also an accident that you stood there staring at me?!"

"Okay, I admit, I stared at you for a second, but it was purely for appreciation's sake!" Dean knew that what he had said was stupid as soon as it left his mouth and inwardly smacked himself.

If it was possible, Lyn's green eyes looked even more deadly and dangerous than usual. If the anger in her voice before had been frightening, the cool, silky-smooth tone it took on now would make the blood run cold. "Excuse me?"

Dean winced at the calm tone in her voice and started to back away slowly. "What I mean is that, uh, I was just shocked that you were standing there instead of Sam. I mean, you're all thin and Sam's all Sasquatch-y and I was expecting to see Sam, not you." Dean struggled not to trip over his words as he tried to backtrack what he said before.

Lyn carefully matched Dean's every step backward with a step forward of precisely the same length, keeping the distance between them exactly the same as she prowled after him like a wolf stalking its prey. "I see," she said coolly, a twisted smile curling her lip. "So you were only staring because you were so very surprised I'm not six-foot-four with a squirrel on top of my head."

Dean coughed out a laugh. "Right! Because, you know Sam, his hair never stays flat, it sticks up everywhere! And he's always trying to keep it flat, but I always make fun of him for being in the bathroom so much and primping all the time, and that's why I came in, to mock him. But he wasn't there, you were. And you don't have emo-boy hair… or emo-girl hair. You just have hair. And you aren't Sasquatch-y like he is," Dean rambled on, feeling very scared for his well-being.

"I just have hair," Lyn repeated, her eyes narrowing. "It wasn't my hair you were staring at, now was it, Dean?"

"Well, no, but see, you're a girl. And you have parts that Sam doesn't, being a guy. And I was surprised to see THOSE parts instead of HIS parts." Dean struggled to put a table's length between himself and Lyn.

---

Jordan had to admit, she was falling for Sam… fast. The way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his dimples showed when he smiled, his sincerity, it was all making her turn to jello as they drove back from what was possibly the worst diner with the worst food but the best company.

Sam was presently trying to keep himself from getting his hopes up too high but he couldn't really help it after today. He had never met anyone like Jordan, and not just in the demon hybrid type way, either. She was amazing, beautiful, smart, and that laugh that made him want to spend every second thinking of ways to make her laugh more… He found himself wondering if it got any better than this. Well, obviously it could… but he still wasn't sure if she thought of him that way…

As he parked the Impala next to Jordan's car and pulled the key from the ignition, he stole a glance at her again. God, she was so beautiful when she smiled. Why was she smiling anyway? Maybe, just maybe, she was thinking the same thing he was…?

From inside the room they were parked in front of there was a sudden crashing sound and Sam snapped out of his thoughts, hunter's instincts kicking in. His eyes locked on Jordan's full of alarm that only intensified when Lyn's voice was heard quite audibly shouting, "_YOU_!"

"Oh shit, I know that tone of voice. She's set to kill." Jordan scrambled to undo the seatbelt and pushed the Impala's door open. She jumped out and closed the door. "We have to hurry, she'll start throwing punches soon."

Sam quickly made his own escape from the seatbelt and the car, forgetting the coffee they had brought back in his haste. As he headed for the door he was actually debating killing his brother himself. _Damn it, Dean, why did you have to piss her off now?!_

Jordan ran up the motel steps and to the door, thankful that they had forgotten to lock it on their way out earlier. She pushed the door open to find Dean struggling to find some way to hide behind one of the beds and Lyn grabbing for him, her face flushed with anger.

"Lyn, stop!" Jordan yelled, running over and grabbing Lyn's arm as she pulled it back, prepared to throw a punch.

Ordinarily, it would have taken much more than one person Jordan's size to keep Lyn from ripping Dean's head off. But ordinarily Lyn didn't have twelve stitches in her forearm that sent lances of pain up her side when Jordan grabbed it. As it was, she couldn't exactly wrench her arm away without causing herself further pain so she resorted to growling and intimidation instead.

"Let me go so I can freaking kill him!" she more ordered than requested, still trying to reach Dean with her free arm.

"Whoa – I know he can be a jerk, but him dying won't fix that," Sam tried to reason as he followed Jordan in and held back Lyn's other arm so she wouldn't kill his brother. "Dean, what the hell did you do?"

"It was an accident! I thought you were in the bathroom doing up that emo hair of yours and I went in and Lyn was there and well…" Dean paused and rolled his eyes. "I might have stared for like a SECOND."

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Really, Dean? You perv… Frankly, I'm surprised she hasn't killed you already!" _Of course, they had to do this NOW… Figures!_ She thought angrily to herself.

"If you were really my friend, you'd let me go now," Lyn growled, glaring at Jordan. "I'd let you go if you were trying to kill him!"

"Okay, Dean's a pervert, but we all know that," Sam said in an attempt to soothe matters. "If it will make you feel better, we can lock him out of the motel room and make him sleep in the Impala?"

"Lyn, you can't kill him… you don't have anyplace to dump the body. And there are too many witnesses," Jordan reasoned.

"What?! Whose side are you guys on, anyway?!" Dean yelled incredulously.

Lyn let out a low growl reminiscent of an angry Doberman and stopped trying to pull free from Sam's grip. "Fine," she hissed, still glaring daggers at Dean. "But if you wake up and he's disappeared you can honestly say that you saw nothing."

Sam wasn't really sure if that was reassuring or not so he looked at Jordan with a 'should we let her go?' question in his eyes.

Jordan nodded back to him and let Lyn's arm go cautiously.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed himself out from behind the bed and walked slowly closer a few steps. "I'm sorry, Lyn."

"Yeah, I'm sure," she growled, jerking her arm away from Sam and turning on her heel to walk back toward the bathroom. She paused at the door and turned to glare daggers at Dean again and say warningly, "The next time I throw something at you, it won't be a newspaper."

Then she slammed the door so hard the walls shook and Sam stared at it for a second before looking back at Dean. "You might want to consider that sleeping in the car suggestion. And making real sure the doors are locked."


	14. A Simple Salt and Burn

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: Holy crap, more writing?!

Jordan: Hot dang, get some butter – we're on a roll!

**Chapter Fourteen – A Simple Salt-and-Burn**

Sam sighed heavily as he got behind the wheel of the Impala and prepared for the hunt he and Dean had been planning to go on before the girls showed up. Now Jordan was also along or the ride – it was all they had been able to do to convince Lyn not to come too but finally they had persuaded her (AKA Jordan had used a guilt trip about how bad she would feel if Lyn got hurt trying to come along when she wasn't healed) to stay.

"Lyn, I'll be fine… I've been on hunts before and the guys have my back. I'll call you when it's over to let you know I'm not dead, okay?" Jordan said, picking up her bag and moving toward the door.

"Alright, fine," Lyn said begrudgingly. "But just for thought's sake… I wouldn't mind if the perv didn't come back."

Jordan rolled her eyes and waved in Lyn's general direction before opening the door and walking out. She closed and locked the door behind her and looked down to see Sam and Dean both already in the car waiting, so she ran down the steps and hopped in the back seat of the Impala.

"'Bout time you got down here," Dean muttered.

"Just be glad Lyn didn't tie her to a chair and refuse to let her go without coming," Sam mumbled as he backed out of the parking space.

Jordan settled herself in the back seat of the Impala, buckling her seatbelt and stretching her rams and neck.

"Hey, are you sure it's alright to leave Lyn here? I mean, what if that Keith guy comes back and we aren't here?" Dean said, trying to hide the worry in his voice but not really succeeding.

"She has an arsenal in the room with her," Sam pointed out. He might have made a comment about Dean sounding like he cared about her or something but at the moment he was distracted slightly by glancing at Jordan in the rearview mirror. "I mean, between the nine mil, the rifle, and the shotgun, she should be in less danger than we are."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean muttered and sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest.

"Besides, we shouldn't be gone long. It's just a simple salt-and-burn," Jordan said reassuringly.

"Exactly, so no worrying," Sam said, more trying to reassure Jordan than Dean. "Everything'll be fine."

---

"Finally," Jordan muttered as they pulled into the graveyard and parked beneath a huge tree.

"Okay, you and Sam stand guard while I torch the son of a bitch," Dean said, pulling his duffel out of the back seat and walking around to the trunk.

Jordan opened the door of the Impala and pulled her bag out. "Yeah, alright," she agreed.

"Don't you want a little help digging first, genius?" Sam asked with a roll of his eyes. "I mean, I'll be happy to let you do all of it if you just really want…"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, alright. Jordan, keep your eyes peeled while we're digging, alright?"

"Yeah." She nodded and grabbed salt-filled shotgun shells out of the Impala's trunk. "Let's go." And with that, she walked away toward the grave.

Sam got a shovel from the trunk and chuckled as he stopped in front of the grave. "Isn't it funny how many lives end up being saved by hunters breaking the laws that are supposed to be there to save them?"

Jordan pulled the shotgun out of her duffel and, while loading it, grinned up at Sam and said, "Laws and rules were meant to be broken."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, you two. Sam, get over here; let's get digging."

"Always the slave driver," Sam said, sparing one last grin at Jordan before breaking ground with his shovel and starting work.

Jordan watched Sam's muscles move under his t-shirt for a second before shaking herself out of it and turning around, looking around for any threat.

Dean, too, began digging, and with the combination of both brothers working, they were almost done in no time. Of course, a simple salt-and-burn was never just a simple salt-and-burn and of course it was when Dean and Sam were both standing six feet below the surface that trouble struck. Or spoke, actually.

"You're all really predictable, y'know that?"

In typical hunter shoot-first-ask-questions-later style, Jordan spun toward the sound and fired. Then she blinked to find herself facing nothing but darkness and weeds.

Then the next second pain erupted in her hand as something struck it hard and the shotgun went flying. She cried out and then was pulled back against something – no, someone, because a familiar voice whispered in her ear, "And you always fell for that."

"Jordan?!" Sam's voice called as he dropped the shovel and his hands gripped the edge of the grave, ready to pull himself up.

"Not so fast!" Keith said, louder this time, as he kept Jordan's arms pinned with one arm and held a revolver to her head with the other. "Anybody moves too fast and I'll test that theory about her being a full demon or not by putting a bullet in her skull."

Jordan's entire body tensed and she angled her head away from the revolver, cursing herself for falling for the oldest trick in the book.

Dean looked around frantically, searching for any way to get the upper hand and get Jordan away from Keith but found none.

"Oh, just be still, would you?" Keith asked with an air of impatience as he held Jordan still.

"Let her go!" Sam obligatorily demanded. Of course, it was very unlikely, but it was all he could think of to do at the moment.

Keith rolled his eyes. "You should just be glad I decided to follow you instead of taking out Lyn first. But I decided that wouldn't be very sporting since she doesn't even present a challenge right now."

"I swear to god, if you touch her I'll come back from the dead and kill you myself you piece of crap," Jordan snarled at Keith.

_I've got to do something to get out of this mess,_ Jordan thought to herself. She looked over to Sam and tried to convey her best 'go with me' face.

"You're not dying, Jordan!" Sam objected before meeting her gaze and raising an eyebrow. He didn't know what she wanted him to go along with but for now he just kept talking. "If he wanted you dead he could have shot you from a distance before any of us knew he was here."

"Or I could just be planning to kill you, as well," Keith corrected.

Jordan looked from the corner of her eye at the revolver in his hand and breathed in shakily. "Keith, don't involve them in this. They didn't do anything. Killing them won't prove anything."

She looked at Sam and then to a tiny but sharp rock next to the grave. She mouthed, "Throw it."

Sam's eyes widened slightly as he took in what she meant. What, was she insane?! Did she want to die?! With just his eyes he tried to communicate just how incredibly badly this plan could turn out as Keith said quietly, "What do I need to prove? They're hunters who are in league with a demon. Traitors to their own cause. Just like Lyndi, isn't that right, Jordan?"

Jordan's body started to shake with anger. "Shut up, Keith. You're the traitor. You don't know anything about what I am but you are still so ready to kill me and Lyn at any chance you can get. It's pathetic!"

She practically spat the words at him and mouthed, "Do it!" at Sam.

Swallowing hard and praying to whatever god was listening, Sam carefully caught the rock between his fingers, took a deep breath, and threw it.

Dean watched, horrified, as Sam grabbed the rock and, before he could stop him, threw it at Keith and Jordan.

Keith flinched as the rock came towards him and Jordan acted. She stomped on Keith's foot and threw her head backwards, trying to hit anything she could. She felt the back of her head come in contact with something hard, Keith's skull presumably, and the hold on her was loosened a few seconds later. She took the opportunity to pull her arms free and turn around to face Keith, knocking the gun from his hands and kicking it away.

"Stubborn as ever, huh?" Keith growled out through a busted lip and possibly a cracked tooth or two. The blood made his smirk look even more twisted as he pulled a blade from nowhere, or from somewhere in his coat probably. "But just as stupid, too."

Catching the gleam of the knife in the moonlight, Sam yelled Jordan's name and again caught hold of the edge of the grave to pull himself out of it, each heartbeat feeling like a millennia as he hoped he wouldn't be too late.

Dean, too, pulled himself from the grave and ran as fast as he could towards Jordan. He reached her just as Keith was pulling his arm back to stab her with the knife. Dean pushed her out of the way and a split second later felt a searing pain in his shoulder.

Jordan fell toward the ground, hearing a bone in her ankle crack as she hit the ground haphazardly and felt the pain a second later. She cried out in pain, curling into herself slightly.

Sam was there a second later, slamming the shovel into Keith's head before he could draw another random weapon from wherever he kept getting them. Keith fell to the ground and Sam dropped the shovel, running to the other two hunters.

"Jordan! Dean! Are you okay?!"

Jordan, breathing hard, turned onto her back. "Not so good." She cried out in pain when her leg bumped the ground, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Got me in the shoulder. I'll be alright, take care of her. I'm calling Lyn." Dean grunted and walked back toward the car, hand pressed to the stab wound on his shoulder.

"Did he stab you?" Sam asked in concern as he knelt beside Jordan, looking her up and down before his eye caught on her ankle and he tried to keep his expression change from looking sickened. "… Oh… That…"

Jordan's chest heaved as she struggled to keep her breathing under control. "Yeah, that… Is it bad?"

"Uh… well… I think you could probably use a hospital and a stretcher and some morphine and maybe surgery to put the bone back inside your leg so they can cast it."

Jordan whimpered quietly and a tear fell down the side of her face. "Is Dean okay?"

"He just got a shoulder wound, he'll be fine," Sam assured her. "Okay… I'm gonna have to carry you to the car… This is probably gonna hurt but it'll be a lot less painful than trying to stand up, okay?"

Jordan nodded slightly and braced herself for pain, biting her bottom lip and clenching her teeth.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, Sam carefully tried to pick her up while moving her leg as little as he could.

Jordan squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw to keep from crying out in pain but two tears leaked out of her eyes.

"Okay," Sam said in the softest, most soothing voice he could manage as he turned toward the car. "We'll get you to the hospital and…" Then his eyes fell on the place where Keith had fallen. There was the shovel but there was no sign of Keith. "Damn… Dean?!"

"We'll be back soon, keep the doors locked and don't go outside," Dean said and hung up the phone. At the sound of his name being called, he turned his head and walked quickly but carefully back to where he had left Sam and Jordan. "Whatsa matter?"

"Jordan's leg is broken – bad," Sam said as he tried to walk as quickly as he could toward the car without jarring her too much. "And the psycho's gone."

Jordan curled into Sam's body and wrapped her arms around his neck, taking comfort in the head of his body. "He's gone?" She looked up at him, fear in her eyes.

"He's – shit… We gotta get going, now. There's no telling what he's gonna do next, and we gotta get back to Lyn and make sure she's okay," Dean said as he turned to walk back to the car.

"Hey, it's okay – it'll be okay," Sam tried to assure her while attempting to figure out what to do next. "Dean, we have to get her to a hospital – she'll bleed out from that bone, it's a wonder she hasn't gone into shock already."

Dean nodded and got in the driver's seat of the car. "Ride in the back with her – keep her awake."

Jordan felt her head begin to spin and opened her eyes. Suddenly there were two of Sam and everything was spinning. She swallowed thickly and shut her eyes again. The pain in her leg began to fade away as she felt herself slipping into blackness.

"Jordan?!" Sam said frantically as he tried to wake her without jarring her leg too much. "Jordan! Dean, she's unconscious! What do we do?!"

Dean put the Impala in gear and stepped on the gas, his jaw set tightly. "Drive fast."


	15. A Series of Interesting Developments

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: So I finally got off my butt and decided to post these!

Jordan: Yeah, we kinda wrote them a while ago.

Lyn: Sorry. –sweatdrop-

**Chapter Fifteen – A Series of Interesting Developments**

Dean pulled up the motel, being careful not to hit any major bumps, and parked the car. He got out and grabbed the keys to the motel room. He quickly walked up the stairs and unlocked the motel door, coming face to face with a pissed Lyn.

"Where's Jordan?!" she demanded the second the door was open and she had lowered the nine millimeter she had had trained on the door upon realizing he was not Keith. "You said you were all coming back!"

"We are all back. Jordan's unconscious in the car with Sam. She has to go to the hospital," Dean said, hand pressed to his shoulder.

"Uncon – what the heck did you do?! What part of I'll freaking kill you if she doesn't come back in one piece did you not understand?!"

"Lyn, I tried, okay?!" Dean said, his voice taking on an angry tone. "Believe me, it could have been worse."

"Yeah? How did you try exactly, Dean?!" Lyn started to rant before noticing the blood seeping through his fingers and her eyebrows rose. "… You mean that…?"

Dean nodded slightly. "Got me in the shoulder with a knife," he said simply.

"Oh," Lyn said softly, looking a little taken aback. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…"

Dean shook his head. "It's okay. I'm fine. I'll live; Jordan might not if she loses any more blood. She has to go to the hospital."

Lyn seemed to debate something for a second before taking on her normal firm tone again. "Tell Sam to go and sit down and let me look at you. You'll either drive into a pole or pass out if you don't get that fixed before you try to drive anymore."

Dean caught the determined look in Lyn's eye and sighed. "Okay, I'll be right back." He walked downstairs to the Impala. "Sam, go to the hospital without me, okay? Lyn wants to fix me up and you'll take good care of her, right?"

"Yeah, of course," Sam said as he got into the driver's seat, though he looked a little confused. "I guess she has a point, it would look suspicious if we brought her in like that and you with a bleeding knife wound…"

Dean nodded. "Drive fast. Take care of her," he said quickly then began to walk back to the motel room.

Lyn had the huge first aid kit Jordan had brought in the last time Keith had attacked already open on one of the beds when Dean came back. Her expression was at the same time concerned and stern. "When I said tell Sam to go, I meant sit down and call him."

Dean smiled wryly. "Sorry. But they're on their way now, and she'll be fine." He paused a second before adding, "You know, I CAN clean myself up. You don't have to do it."

Lyn was silent for a moment as she made him sit down before she said in a softer voice than usual, "I owe you. Anyway, I was in school to be a paramedic before we found out about Jordan. I can almost guarantee I'll do a better job than you could by yourself."

Dean nodded slightly and took his hand away from his shoulder, the blood still slowly seeping out of the wound and soaking into his shirt.

"Your shirt's already ruined; it'll hurt less if I just cut it off so you won't have to move your arm." Lyn was more talking to herself than him about this because she didn't wait for permission before taking a pair of scissors to it. A crease appeared between her eyebrows when she got a better look at the wound. "It's pretty deep… What did you do, tackle him while he was trying to stab you?"

Dean sighed slightly. "No, he was going to stab Jordan. He had gotten her from behind, but Sam distracted him and Jordan got the gun away from him. We were both in the grave still and he pulled a knife. Went to stab her, so I pushed her out of the way. That's why she hurt her ankle, I guess…"

"Hm, so you broke my best friend's ankle now?" Lyn asked in a somewhat strained attempt at a mock accusatory voice. Her lip twitched a little into what was obviously supposed to be a joking smile but her eyes showed plainly that the attempt at humor was solely an effort to cheer Dean up and she didn't really feel like smiling at all.

Dean smiled slightly but it didn't reach his eyes. "She'll be okay," he said, more reassuring himself than Lyn.

"She's tough… But really… thanks," Lyn said softly as she tore open a swab to clean the wound with. "I probably don't have to tell you this is gonna sting."

Dean acknowledged the thanks with a small smile. "I'm sure I'll live." He grinned at her.

Lyn smiled softly. "That would be the plan." As she gently but thoroughly cleaned the knife wound, she sighed softly and added, "I guess I overreacted before, too. And I'm sorry I hit you."

Dean laughed quietly. "I guess walking in on you in the bathroom and staring at you was a pretty pervy thing to do, huh?" He smirked and rolled his eyes. "I guess I deserved it."

"Dang straight, you deserved it," Lyn said with a soft laugh and a glance up at his eyes to let him know she wasn't angry. "But I still shouldn't have done it." She chuckled softly again and added, "Anyway, now we're about half even considering you're the one who's not wearing a shirt this time."

Dean grinned and winked at her. "How do you get completely even? Want me to take off the rest?" he asked joking with a smirk.

Lyn shook her head and shot him an exasperated look. "You never give up on the perverted humor, do you?"

"Never." Dean grinned wolfishly and chuckled.

"Yeah well, keep the rest of your clothes on if you don't mind," Lyn said with a roll of her eyes. "And if you do mind, get your own room because the rest of us definitely mind too."

_Not that he'd be bad to look at,_ she mused as her gaze momentarily strayed from his shoulder wound to the rest of his chest and abs before she quickly snapped her eyes back to where they were supposed to be. _Jeez, what, is his perviness contagious or something? Get a hold of yourself…_

Dean caught the path her eyes took and smirked inwardly but didn't say anything to her for fear of pissing her off. Again. And they had just gotten over that.

"So, doc, how's it look?"

"Nice." Lyn reflexively said the first word that came into her mind and then instantly regretted it. "That is, it's a clean cut that missed all the major veins and tendons and the knife was clean so there's not much risk of infection once I get some antibacterial and a bandage on it," she corrected quickly. _Yeah, that makes sense… right?_

Dean actually smirked this time. "Good; now all we gotta worry about is Jordan."

Lyn froze dead in the middle of cutting a square of sterile padding. It was only for about half a second, but still noticeable as she was reminded of why she was currently patching Dean's shoulder and there was no one else around to break the awkward tension. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice going soft again as her hands continued moving. "Just Jordan."

_Yeah, your best friend's in a hospital somewhere and you're getting distracted by some shirtless hunter. That's real loyalty there._

---

Sam had to keep himself from twitching at the man sitting next to him in the ER who kept calling the nurses to ask when his son was going to be taken back. Because apparently he had a 103-degree fever.

Not that Sam was mad at the guy for caring about his son, but did he not realize that there were far more important things on the nurses' mind just then? Like maybe the fact that Jordan was in surgery?

Try as he might, Sam couldn't make himself stop going over it in his head. What he should have done, what he didn't do, and how he could have prevented this all if he hadn't been so stupid. And what the hell was taking so long?!

Finally a doctor came walking down the hallway and into the waiting room. "Family of Jordan Yazebel?" he asked, looking around.

"Yes?" Sam asked quickly, standing up so fast that the guy with the sick kid next to him stared. "Is she okay?"

The doctor walked closer to Sam. "She's okay. The surgery went well. We were able to fix the bone and get a cast on her leg. She also needed a transfusion since she lost a lot of blood but she's going to be fine. She's awake but she's groggy – you can go back and see her if you'd like. Room 304, on the left."

"Thanks – thank you," Sam barely managed to stammer out before heading down the hallway. Good, this was good. She would be okay and everything would be fine.

"Jordan?" he asked quietly as he poked his head into the room, not wanting to wake her if she had fallen asleep.

Jordan opened her eyes and blinked a few times and looked to the door. Her confused expression melted away and it was replaced with pure joy. "Sam! You stayed!" She beamed and pulled herself up into a sitting position.

Sam smiled softly and came in to sit beside her bed. "Of course I stayed. You thought I would leave?"

Jordan shrugged slightly. "I don't know, maybe." She let out a breath. "But I'm glad you stayed." She looked up into Sam's eyes and for a moment, just wanted to pull him to her and hug him. Instead she settled for resting her hand on top of his and smiling softly.

Sam tried not to jump to any conclusions when she put her hand on his. After all, she might just be woozy from the drugs and not know what she was doing. At the same time, though… it was nice. So he couldn't help but smile as he asked quietly, "So I take it you're feeling better?"

"Much, but then again I could get shot and not feel anything due to the amount of drugs I have in my system right now." She rolled her eyes and laughed. She squeezed his hand slightly. "Thank you… for not leaving and for bringing me here and for making sure I am okay." She could feel a warmness in her chest while looking into his eyes, at his smile. She knew her eyes were welling up with tears and she didn't bother to brush them away as they slowly slid out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

"You don't have to thank me, of course I wouldn't leave," Sam said gently. He knew the drugs were making her emotional but he still didn't like to see her cry. "Everything's gonna be fine. Lyn's patching up Dean and you're okay and everything's good, okay?"

Jordan nodded slowly and, unable to deny herself any longer, she reached out and snaked her hand around the back of Sam's neck. She tugged him closer until their lips met, just a gentle brush of lips against lips. After a moment or two, she pulled away, her hand still around his neck and their faces only inches apart. She looked down, scared that he would push her away.

Sam realized only after Jordan pulled back again that he hadn't been breathing this whole time and took a long, slow breath. Funny how breathing felt so unimportant sometimes. His eyes met hers cautiously, a little afraid to reveal too much of what he was thinking, but he couldn't exactly act like he hadn't enjoyed it either. But what if it was just the drugs making her loopy and that was why she kissed him? What if that wasn't what she really felt at all? Searching her eyes for the answers, he asked slowly, "Jordan…?"

"Sam… I know I should be worried about other things right now but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," Jordan said, her voice slightly breathy as she continued, "I'll worry about the rest of the world later, but right now I don't want to think of anything else but you." She stopped, her stomach clenching uncomfortably as she watched his face, waiting for his reaction.

"Are… are you sure…?" Sam asked slowly, his eyes widening a little despite his best efforts to keep from looking too hopeful. "I mean, you're not just feeling this now… now that you're on all these medications…?"

"I may be doped up, but I know that what I feel now is the real deal," Jordan said softly, her other hand coming up to cup his face in her hand.

"So… That's why you went on the coffee run with me even though you don't like coffee?" Sam asked with a slight smile.

"Yeah, Sam. That's why I went. I went so that I could be with you," she said, her smile mirroring his.

Sam's smile broadened to a real one then. "Well, in that case…" He leaned forward slowly so she could still change her mind if she wanted and kissed her gently.

Jordan's stomach fluttered uncontrollably as she pulled Sam as close to her as she could and deepened their kiss, her eyes fluttering shut.

Sam could hardly believe it now that it was happening. Not only did Jordan feel the same way but they were kissing, even if it was in a hospital after a hunt – still more than enough to make Sam's world spin.

And then, of course, Sam's phone rang. He groaned audibly as he pulled back apologetically, glaring at the evil contraption.

Jordan smiled wryly and looked down at the phone. "Gonna answer it?" She smirked playfully at him.

Sam made a face that clearly showed how displeased he was with the interruption. "If this were any other situation and Lyn and Dean weren't worried, I'd kill them."

Jordan laughed and pulled him close to her, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away and settling back into the uncomfortable hospital bed, looking expectantly at him.

Sighing reluctantly, Sam answered his phone and hoped it wouldn't take too long to convince Lyn that Jordan would be fine.


	16. A Fight to End All Fights

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: La another one I never posted until now…

**Chapter Sixteen – A Fight to End All Fights**

"Okay, thanks, Sam; I really appreciate it. Okay, bye." Lyn sighed heavily as she closed her phone. A sigh of relief. "Well, looks like I don't have to kill you today, bristlehead," she told Dean with a grin. "Jordan's gonna be fine."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, we both know you could never kill me. You think I'm gorgeous. You want me." He smirked at her.

Lyn wasn't sure whether to be more appalled at his nerve or embarrassed that he was at least in some small degree right. She settled for acting indignant because that was her default mechanism for when people, lately especially Dean, challenged her. "What?! Have all those hair gel fumes gone to your head or something?!"

"Nope. I saw you checking me out. And that little stumble before…? You think my body is 'nice.' Not exactly the adjective most people use, but I'll take it." He smirked and leered wolfishly at her.

"Checking you out?! I was _checking_ to make sure you didn't have any other wounds!" Lyn lied. "I mean, if you'd prefer I'd let you bleed to death or something, I'll happily oblige next time."

"Riiight… you were checking out my abs!" And, as if to prove his point, Dean pulled his shirt up and over his head. He cocked his head to the side and watched Lyn's face carefully. "Go ahead, look. You know you want to."

"I do not!" Lyn fumed though she was now staring at a spot about a foot above Dean's head so her eyes wouldn't wander by accident. "Now put your clothes back on, you freaking pervert!"

"Oh, really? So that's why you're staring at a spot above my head so you won't have to struggle not to look. Admit it and you can look aaalllll you want," he said smugly, spreading his arms and stepping closer to her.

"You are so full of yourself!" Lyn accused but the color rising in her cheekbones as she finally met his gaze wasn't from anger. "Now knock it off before I put a hole in your other shoulder!"

Dean stepped closer once more. "Oh, really? I am?" He laughed. "Maybe I am, but I'm okay with that." He finally looked back at her face and grinned like a hyena. "You're blushing! Hah! I was right! You want me!"

"Oh please!" Lyn accused, shoving him in the chest to try to make him back off and pretending not to notice the fact that her face burned hotter when she touched his skin. "This from the drooling peeping tom whose life I had to threaten to make him stop goggling at me?!"

Lyn's shove did nothing to deter Dean from his goal; he simply stepped closer to her and smirked. "Sweetheart, I'm not afraid to admit that any guy would be staring at you while you're half naked. Even when you're fully clothed, they'd be staring."

Whatever response Lyn had been expecting to her accusation, that wasn't it, and for a second she just stood there with a rather shell-shocked expression on her face before trying to stumble her way back into her pretended rage. "Wh – _you_ – what did you just – Dean Winchester!"

Dean laughed, watching the emotions change on her face. "Caught you off guard, there, didn't I?" He took another step forward, now so close to her that he could feel her heavy breaths fanning his face. "See, I'm not afraid to say what I think, so why are you?" he murmured.

"Okay, fine," Lyn growled. "You want to know what I think? I think you are the most ridiculously inane, narcissistic, opportunistic, self-righteous and self-absorbed person I have ever met. I think you have an old lady's name because I know three other Deans and they're all women in their sixties. And yeah, I think you're a little gorgeous."

Dean's brain registered the comment and her insults and part of him was inwardly smirking at the fact that Lyn thought he was gorgeous. But the only thing that he wanted to do at that moment was stop her from calling him any other names in the only way he knew he was good at. He pulled Lyn to him and, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, kissed her for all he was worth.

For a split second, Lyn froze completely, shock numbing her to the thoughts and emotions that should have been warring inside her head at his actions. Yet a moment later when the shock wore off, the anger and disbelief that should have been there… just weren't. She should have shoved him or hit him or anything to make him back off because what the heck kind of right did he have to be kissing her but reason somehow completely went out the window. The next thing she knew she was not only not kissing back but pressing closer to him, her hands trailing up his chest to tangle her fingers in his hair. And though she couldn't seem to remember _intending_ to do any of it… dang, it felt good.

Dean's hand slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and ran up the expanse of her back then back down over her stomach.

Everywhere Dean's hands moved they trailed a line of liquid fire that seeped into Lyn's veins, spreading the heat and intensity through her entire body. Lying and saying she didn't want him was completely out of the question now; every quickening beat of her heart, every inch of her skin pressing against him, every dilated pupil and heavy breath and longing look betrayed her.

Dean slowly walked them backwards to one of the two motel beds in the room until Lyn's knees hit the bed. He pulled her shirt up over her head and ran his hands up her back to the clasp of her bra. He undid it and his hands went to her shoulders, sliding the straps off and down her arms. His eyes raked in her bare breasts hungrily before he brought his hands up to cup them roughly.

For someone who so recently had attacked Dean for staring at her while she was in her underwear, Lyn suddenly didn't seem to mind him doing a lot more than that. When he paused, she growled low in her throat and hooked her hand around his neck to pull him down to her by his hair and kissed him even more fiercely than he had kissed her. She needed to feel his lips, his skin, his breath, the passion that made her blood feel electrified.

Dean pushed Lyn back onto the bed and lowered himself on top of her, pushing her up the bed toward the headboard. He kissed and nipped his way down her stomach and hips before popping the button on her jeans and pulling the zipper down, never breaking eye contact with her. He slid her jeans down her hips and thighs torturously slow, kissing every square inch of newly exposed skin.

Lyn kept her hands in Dean's hair until he moved too far for her to reach, her breath catching at his lips and breath moving across her skin but impatient for him to come back where she could see and touch him. She wanted this, she wanted him, so badly that it was driving her crazy to lie there and not be able to reach him.

Dean ran his lips and hands back up her legs as he crawled his way back up to her. His lips reconnected with Lyn's, their tongues battling for dominance as they kissed each other. Dean's moan resounded low in his chest as he pressed his hand flat against her stomach and slid it down until he reached her panties where he paused only briefly then slid his hand inside.

Lyn's moan wasn't as deep as Dean's but it was just as full of passion and desire as her hands ran across his neck and shoulders. She nipped at his lower lip then hungrily trailed her lips and tongue down his throat as her need for him only increased.

Dean slid his other hand down Lyn's body and pulled her underwear off. He stared at her for a minute, just marveling in her beauty and drinking in her nakedness. He kissed the inside of her thighs, her hips, her stomach, breasts, and chest. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pushed them off along with his boxers.

Dean without his clothes pretty much literally took Lyn's breath away. Or maybe just made her forget to breathe. She wasn't really sure which, but either way it was the same concept. She wanted to say something but her head was too clouded with desire to form coherent words so instead she put her hands on his chest and then let them trail down as she kissed his lips then along his jaw.

Dean leaned back on his heels and grabbed his discarded jeans. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and took out the condom he always kept there. He tore open the package with his teeth and rolled it on himself. Then he leaned back down and kissed Lyn's neck, moving up to her lips before moving his mouth to her ear and whispering, "Ready?"

Lyn still couldn't figure out how to make her voice work. Maybe he had gone a little overboard with the whole making her speechless thing. But she was still perfectly capable of meeting his gaze with one full of want and need and nodding her answer.

Dean thrust inside Lyn in a single smooth stroke, groaning when he was finally inside her then pausing for a moment before starting to move.

Lyn's nails raked against the back of his head as her hand clenched in his hair and she arched her back toward him slightly. She drew in a ragged breath that escaped as a low moan, her eyes going wild with pleasure as she tried to pull him down toward her.

Dean braced one hand next to Lyn's head and gripped her hip with the other, thrusting becoming more erratic as pleasure began building in his stomach. The minutes seemed like hours as they lay together, moving in rhythm with each other. A fine sheen of sweat coated each of them as they both got closer and closer to release. Dean's thrusts began getting harder and he positioned his hips to hit just the right spot inside her.

A sharp gasp caught in Lyn's throat as that building rush finally exploded. Then all of a sudden her ability to speak was back as her nails raked against his back, trying to pull him down and keep him there. "Dean… Oh god, Dean!"

As Lyn tightened around him, Dean's eyes clenched shut and he thrust one last time, his release coming seconds after hers. He buried his face in her neck and cried her name as he came.


	17. Awkwardness Levels

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: Yet another unposted until now…

**Chapter Seventeen – Awkwardness Levels**

"Well, that was a really long night," Sam said with a sigh as he pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the motel and went to help Jordan out of it.

Jordan opened her door and swung her legs around. She looked up at Sam and smirked. "You can say that again. Hopefully Lyn and Dean haven't killed each other in the time we've been gone." She pulled her crutches from the back seat and leaned them against the Impala.

"I'll come back for those," Sam said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't try to go up the stairs with them until you're used to them. I'll carry you."

Jordan blushed slightly but rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine…"

Sam smirked as he picked her up and headed for the door. "Are you complaining?"

"Absolutely not." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek.

Sam laughed softly as he somehow managed to fit the key in the door while carrying her because he has Sam skills that way. "Then don't argue."

As soon as Sam opened the door and Jordan tore her eyes away from his face, she looked over to the beds, expecting to see the two as far away from each other as they could be. "Hey guys, it's been a long night but—OH MY GOD?!"

Dean and Lyn, instead of being as far away from each other as they could be, were tangled together in the bed, naked, covered by a thin strip of the sheets.

Sam promptly yelled something wordless but which distinctly resembled a curse and backed out of the room very quickly. Lyn jerked awake, turned a shade of red reminiscent of a ripe strawberry, and yanked the sheet off Dean to better cover herself. "What the heck are you two doing back already?!"

"We wanted to get back to make sure that you two weren't killing each other… But, it seems like you got along fine while we were gone," Jordan said loud enough to be heard from outside the room.

"Yeah, you could say that," Dean said and you could clearly hear the smirk in his voice.

Lyn couldn't really blush any darker but she did hit Dean upside the head hard. "Would you quit smirking like a donkey eating saw briars?! How is this funny?!

Sam groaned. "What the hell, Dean?! Can't you keep your pants on for one night so our eyes aren't scarred?"

"Ow! Sorry," Dean mumbled and let himself fall back onto the bed.

"Jeez… I so didn't need to see that," Jordan whimpered and buried her face in Sam's chest.

And somehow, despite having just seen something that made him want to stab out his own eyes, Sam had to smile down at Jordan.

---

The silence in the room was deafening as Jordan, Sam, Dean, and Lyn all sat on different sides of the room, no one speaking.

Jordan looked u pat Sam and watched him as he read a book, then smiled, holding back her laughter, and looked down.

Sam got that someone's-looking-at-me feeling and looked up just as Jordan smiled which naturally made him smile too before quickly switching his gaze back to the book.

Lyn, meanwhile, was sitting in the floor in a corner with her iPod earphones in, staring at the wall as if purposefully determined to avoid looking at anyone. In fact, this is exactly what she was doing; her iPod wasn't even turned on. Strangely enough, this was the first time in longer than she could remember that she hadn't felt like listening to music.

Dean looked up from the laptop in front of him and at Lyn. She was staring straight at the wall and listening to her iPod. She had a blank look on her face, but there was something in her eyes that made him nervous. Was she regretting what had happened between them? Was she angry at him?

Jordan snuck a peek at Sam again through her eyelashes. It was amazing how Sam doing a simple thing like reading a book could make her stomach flutter and her mind go fuzzy. She continued watching Sam, the way his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, the way his brow would wrinkle every now and then.

Of course, Sam was trying to ignore the fact that he knew she was looking. Mostly, anyway. He definitely enjoyed it, that she apparently couldn't keep her eyes off him, but the slight smirk tweaking his mouth was the only indication he gave.

Lyn sighed heavily and rested her forehead against the wall. Why had she done that, anyway? What had gotten into her? She knew by now how Dean was with women… knew that was all she would ever be to him… And why the heck did that thought make her feel so sick to her stomach?

Dean watched Lyn's face carefully, trying like hell to read her expression. However, reading her face was like trying to understand ancient Greek.

Jordan saw the small smirk on Sam's face and bit her lip to contain her laughter but a small cough of a laugh escaped her mouth.

Sam only smirked more broadly at that and shot her a sideways look out of the corner of her eye. Not enough that anyone else would catch it but enough to let her know that he knew.

Finally Lyn couldn't take it anymore. She stood up quickly for someone who hadn't moved in so long, keeping her eyes averted from everyone else as she grabbed the keys to Jordan's car off the bedside table. "I need some air," she muttered as she headed for the door. "And maybe some Jack Daniel's."

Dean watched her walk out the door, his jaw clenched. Once the door shut he stood up, grabbed his jacket, and ran after her, muttering, "Me too," over his shoulder.

Jordan watched Lyn and Dean leave and then sighed. "What's up with them…? They seemed so, well you know, earlier," she said to Sam.

Sam winced. "Don't remind me." He shook his head then frowned at the door. "I don't know. Second thoughts maybe? Or is Lyn the easily embarrassed type? We did kind of come in at a bad time."

Lyn looked over her shoulder as she heard someone coming out of the motel room while she was unlocking the car and instantly averted her gaze. Dean; of course. Trying to keep the edge out of her voice, she asked without looking at him again, "Did you want something?"

Dean sighed and walked up to Lyn. He laid his hand on her shoulder and asked quietly, "Lyn… what's the matter?"

Jordan laughed and rolled her eyes. She got up, hobbled over to him, took his book, placed it on the table, and sat in his lap, smirking as she did so.

Sam raised his eyebrows at her for a moment then smirked and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Now, I was researching with that," he said in a mock scolding voice.

Lyn didn't shrug Dean's hand away but that was about the most reassuring aspect of her reaction. Her smile was very forced as she closed her eyes instead of looking at him. "Look, Dean… Nobody's forcing you to act like you care beyond last night. You didn't have to follow me."

"Wait, what?" Dean's hand fell from her arm and his expression became pained.

Jordan pouted at Sam, trying not to laugh. "Well, I COULD get up if you want me to."

Sam smirked more broadly and pulled her closer, placing a soft kiss on her lips then speaking against them: "Now, did I say that?"

Lyn sighed and shook her head, opening the car door. "I'm just saying I know you're only here to try to make it less awkward. I get that. But you don't have to bother. A few weeks and Jordan'll be back on her feet, we can go our merry way, and you can forget about it." _Like you already want to,_ she added mentally.

"Forget about it? Why would I want to –" Dean paused. "Wait, what's why you're acting so weird. You want to just pretend that what happened between us… didn't happen?"

Jordan blushed a light pink and her eyes fluttered shut. She smiled and opened her eyes, looking into his and sighing almost dreamily. "Well then in that case…" She pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Sam's grip on her waist instantly tightened, pulling her to him as he returned the kiss. This was so much better than standing over her hospital bed to kiss her though he would gladly do whatever it took to feel her lips against his.

Lyn smiled softly, the sadness in the expression obvious. "You want to blame me, go ahead. I don't really care; I'm used to it. Just… don't lie to me and say you give a damn, alright, Winchester?"

Dean's face suddenly went from pained to furious in two seconds. "Listen, Lyn. I know you haven't always been keen on me, and I know you don't think much of me, but if you think that I would ever want to forget about what happened, then you don't know _anything_ about me." Dean shook his head, turned, and began to walk away.

A pang of excitement shot through Jordan's entire body. She ran her hands across his back, scraping her nails lightly down the expanse of his muscled chest. She kissed a path down his neck and lightly nipped at the sensitive skin where his neck and shoulder met.

Sam groaned softly, his eyes livening with desire. He ran his hands lightly up the back of her shirt and across her lower back, meeting her eyes questioningly before going any further.

Lyn stood silently for a long moment, her eyes fixed on Dean's retreating back, before she said slowly, "You barely even know me, Dean Winchester. Why the heck should I be any different to you than any other woman you've ever gotten into bed?"

"I don't know why you are, okay?!" Dean answered, turning around to look at her again. "You just are! I mean, you drive me crazy! You're always calling me stuff and you never stop questioning everything I do and you obviously hate me, but you ARE different. Whether you want to be or not, you're different. You're not just another girl I pick up at a bar and I don't want you to be."

Jordan had lost any chance at forming a single coherent, thought let along speaking at all, so she nodded silently and reconnected their lips, her hands slipping below the hem of his shirt and moving up, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his skin with the tips of her fingers.

Sam's fingers caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one motion, his eyes meeting hers then trailing down and back up again. As soon as they locked on hers the second time, one hand caught in her hair to pull her deeper into the kiss as the other undid the clasp of her bra.

There was a crease between Lyn's eyebrows and her eyes looked troubled as they finally met his. "I don't hate you, Dean. You infuriate the heck out of me sometimes but maybe that's just me avoiding what I really feel, as usual. Avoiding the way you make me feel. Like nobody's made me feel in a long time. Maybe I'm just afraid to admit that and lose it again."

Dean took a step closer to Lyn and reached out to cup the side of her face in his hand. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Lyn."

Jordan pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily. "Sam, bed," she said, cursing the stupid cast on her leg that was limiting her movement and could possibly pose a problem in this situation.

Sam didn't argue, just stood up with her in his arms and walked blindly in the general direction of the nearest bed, too distracted by kissing down her neck to bother watching where he was walking.

"Not _of_ you," Lyn said softly, not moving but not breaking eye contact with Dean, either. "_For_ you. Keith's gone off the deep end in a lot of ways, but he is right about one thing… People have a tendency to die around me. If you were smart… whatever it is you think you see in me… you'd keep looking until you find it somewhere else."

"I don't want anybody else," Dean said quietly. "I want _you_."

Jordan's head fell back slightly, her brain going fuzzy and her mouth falling slack. "Sam," she gasped and gripped his hair in one hand while grabbing a fistful of his shirt with the other.

Somehow or other Sam managed to find the bed without the use of his eyes and chuckled against her skin. "You know you have to let go of my shirt before I can put you down and take it off, right?"

"Why?" Lyn whispered hoarsely, gripping Dean's jacket and pulling herself closer to his chest without even realizing it. "Why would you want someone like me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Dean pressed his lips against hers and cupped her face in his hands.

Jordan groaned quietly. "Fine… If I have to," she murmured into his ear quietly, her lips somehow finding their way there. She nipped his earlobe gently and let go of his shirt.

Sam smirked. "That was nice," he said softly as he put her down on the bed and then quickly pulled his shirt over his head, finally actually revealing the chiseled upper body she had been gawking at through his clothes for a week.

Lyn laughed bitterly. "Gee, I dunno. I just insult you, hit you, throw things at you, threatened your life more times than I can count, almost shot you repeatedly…"

Dean rolled his eyes. "When I said I wanted _you_, I meant I want you as you are. That means the insulting, the hitting, the threatening, too. I want it all."

Jordan couldn't stop her mouth from falling open and practically drooling at his half nakedness. She sat up and ran her hands up his abs and chest, tracing every line and hunting scar in her wake. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him and tugged him towards her gently, planting gentle open-mouthed kisses on his stomach.

Sam's hands trailed from her hair down her back and to her hips, pulling her closer to him and unbuttoning her jeans. His breath tickled her neck as he chuckled softly. "The really fun part is gonna be getting these off over that cast, you know that right?"

Lyn smiled softly, the faintest hint of a joke back in her eyes. "You're some kind of masochist, aren't you?"

"Yep, guess I am." Dean smirked and kissed Lyn's temple. "So, back to the room?"

Jordan huffed out a laugh. "Damn cast… this would be so much easier if I didn't have it on."

Sam chuckled. "We'll manage," he said as he kissed Jordan's stomach gently and unzipped her jeans.

Lyn nodded with a soft laugh and kissed his chin just as her way of making them even. "I guess this counts as getting air."

Dean grabbed Lyn's hand and they began to walk back to the room.

Jordan pushed her hips up to allow him to slide her jeans off her hips.

Sam slid her jeans down off her hips with relative ease then was faced with the dilemma of figuring out how to get them off over the cast.

Of course, that was right about when Lyn opened the door, half yelped something incoherent, and spun on her heel to hide her face against Dean's chest. "Oh freaking heck!"

Jordan gasped and grabbed a pillow from the bed, putting it over her naked chest and then pulling her pants back up her hips. "Uh—it's not what it looks like?"

Dean laughed and turned both himself and Lyn back away from the door. "I guess we're even, then."

"This so does not constitute 'even,'" Lyn complained, still hiding her face against Dean's chest like he was some kind of protective shield. "This is just freaking messed up. I now miss the days when the most awkward thing I had ever walked in on was Joey kissing Nicole in the barn and that was just wrong."

"Um – uh – yeah – here," Sam said with an awkward cough, grabbing Jordan's shirt off the floor and handing it to her as he pulled his own back over his head and tried (and failed) not to look awkward.

Jordan pulled her own shirt back on and looked over at Sam, her expression pained, then over to Dean and Lyn, glaring at them and wishing them a million deaths for interrupting her and Sam.

Dean, on the other hand, was finding this situation extremely funny. "Way to go, Sammy!"

"My name isn't Sammy!" Sam snapped, trying not to turn red.

"And this isn't funny!" Lyn added, finally taking a step back from Dean to hit him upside the head. "Now quit smirking like a jackass eating saw briars!"

"Aww, come on, Lyn. It's kinda funny… I mean they walk in on us in bed and we walk in on them before they can even do the deed," Dean murmured in her ear, grinning.

Jordan realized suddenly that her bra had gone AWOL so she searched around frantically, hoping to whatever god would listen that she would find it without Dean noticing.

Sam glared at his brother. "You're a jerk, you know that, Dean?"

Lyn just shoved Dean in the unwounded shoulder and shook her head. "You have a highly sick sense of humor, y'know that?"

Dean just laughed, unable to stop, though apparently he was the only one who found the situation funny at all. Suddenly, something caught his eye and it made him laugh even harder. "Looking for something, Jordan?" He held up Jordan's discarded bra with one finger.

"Oh god, why me…" Jordan could feel her entire body heating up as she blushed beet red and took the bra that Dean threw to her.

Sam coughed awkwardly again and tried to pretend he didn't notice. Or that he was looking away. Or whatever would make this situation less awkward.

Lyn slammed her palm into her face and groaned. "Okay, look, here's what's gonna happen: Tonight, we're gonna lock Sam out until he finishes that freaking salt-and-burn considering he's the only uninjured person left in this motel room. Then, we're all gonna leave and in the next town, we are _not_ all staying in the same room. And we're all gonna pretend today never happened. Everybody got that?" she added with a pointed glare at Dean.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine…"

"Yes, please." Jordan sounded hopeful and looked over at Sam apologetically.


	18. Hitting the Road

Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Lyn: This is the last finished chap I forgot to post, I swear! DON'T KEEL ME!

**Chapter Eighteen – Hitting the Road**

Sam deposited the last of Jordan's bags into the trunk of her car then helped her down the stairs. Lyn sighed heavily as she dropped her duffel bag into the trunk of Dean's Impala. "So where are we headed?"

"Florida," Dean said simply, putting his bags in the back of the Impala.

Jordan sat in the back of her car, lying as comfortably as she could in the small back seat without hurting her leg.

Lyn blinked. "What's in Florida?"

"Nothing," Sam answered. "Or hopefully not, anyway. If you hadn't noticed, we're down three hunters out of four."

"Hey, I am not 'down,'" Lyn grumbled. "You jerks just won't let me drive or go on hunts."

"Of course not, Lyn; you're hurt," Dean said as if it was completely obvious which, to him, it was.

"At least we'll just get to relax, which is something I haven't done in a long time," Jordan said to Sam, who smiled and kissed her forehead.

"You deserve a chance to relax."

Lyn rolled her eyes at Dean as she got into the Impala. "Please – like I've never been on a hunt with a few stitches before."

"Well, I wasn't there to stop you then but I am now." Dean smirked at her and winked, getting into the car and starting it.

Jordan pulled herself carefully into the passenger's seat and buckled her seatbelt. Sam smiled and started the car. "You know, it's gonna be a long ride."

Lyn shot Dean a sideways glare out of the corner of her eye. "You're just hoping I have a bikini in one of my bags, aren't you?"

Dean smirked and leered at her. "You read my mind."

"Yeah, I know. But as long as you're here it won't be boring." Jordan grinned and winked.

Sam chuckled and shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. "Does the same go for when we get there?"

Lyn shook her head. "You know, were you anyone else on the face of the planet, I would have broken your nose by now."

"Yeah, exactly. You like me too much to do that," Dean said cockily.

"Count on it," Jordan said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sam just smirked. "I will."

Lyn's eyes narrowed. "Do you really wanna test that theory?"

---

When they finally needed food, they stopped at the first truck stop they saw. "Time to get some grub, yeah?" Dean said, turning the key in the ignition and getting out.

Jordan reached behind her to pull the crutches out of the backseat and then pushed her door open. "God, I'm starving…"

"You sure I can't help you?" Sam asked for about the ten thousandth time as he watched Jordan hobbling on her crutches.

"I motion we make Dean pick up the check!" Lyn said with a crooked grin. "All in favor?"

Dean huffed. "Not me," he mumbled.

"Aye!" Jordan yelled and leaned against the side of the car. "Sam, I gotta walk eventually. You can't carry me everywhere." She smiled at him. "Thanks though."

Sam smirked. "Aye! And I now I can't… I'd like to though."

"And the ayes have it," Lyn said with a smirk, patting Dean on the uninjured shoulder. "Sorry but you gotta fork up for lunch."

Dean glared at the three of them. "Gee, thanks guys…"

"'Kay guys, seriously need food now," Jordan mumbled and began hobbling towards the entrance.

"You heard the lady," Sam said with a smirk at his brother. "Hope you got enough money on you."

Lyn snickered at Dean's expression and rolled her eyes before starting toward the door too. "Don't be such a sourpuss, Dean. I'll get the check next time if you're gonna cry about it."

Dean rolled his eyes and followed after the three of them, muttering stuff under his breath. When they finally got in and seated, the four of them were more than starving and couldn't wait to get some food.

"Hi there, I'm Brittany. What can I get you?" a bleached blonde with cleavage overflowing from her shirt and the shortest shorts that even Dean had ever seen.

Jordan's eyebrows shot up and her eyes automatically went to Lyn as she mouthed, "Seriously?"

Brittany gave both guys a once over and smiled at them, cocking her hip to the side.

Lyn met Jordan's gaze with her patented 'you-have-to-be-freaking-kidding-me' look before suspiciously switching her gaze to Dean to check where _his_ eyes were turned.

Sam coughed a little awkwardly and tried to find some way to look at the waitress but there didn't seem to be anywhere he _could_ look that wasn't… yeah. So instead he settled for holding the menu in front of his face and ordering the special even though he was too distracted to have any idea what the special was.

Dean shot a glance at Lyn and then caught her 'you-better-not-be-looking-at-that-slut' look, so he looked back at the menu and ordered the same thing Sam did.

Jordan watched Sam actively not looking at her and smirked, looking up at the busty waitress. She prepared to tell her order but the girl just said, "Coming right up, boys," and walked away, swinging her hips as she did so.

"Um, hey? Forgetting something, miss?" Jordan asked, trying her best to keep her temper in check.

"Yes?" the girl practically spat at her. "Can I get _you_ something?"

Jordan gave her a sickly sweet smile. "Yes, in fact you can get _us_ something. Thank you." She then proceeded to give her order and then looked over at Lyn expectantly.

Lyn, meanwhile, was quite obviously trying to restrain herself from ripping the cheap blond hair off the woman's head and strangling her with it. And people said she had no self-restraint! She spoke through a wide and very sadistic-looking smile to give her order, probably picturing the various ways she could kill this woman as she did so.

Dean tried to hold back his laughter as he saw the look in Lyn's eye and was surprised she hadn't maimed the girl already.

"Coming _right_ up," Brittany said with a forced smile on her face and a glare that was obviously supposed to be malicious but was just pathetic.

Sam smiled awkwardly. "Well, uh… That was interesting?"

"And this, kiddos, is why people infuriate the living heck out of me," Lyn growled as she flicked a strand of hair out of her face. "And also why, if I wasn't a hunter, I would be in prison for genocide of all stupid and/or rude people."

Dean laughed and put his arm along the back of the seat behind Lyn. "She isn't worth it; she's just pathetic."

Jordan rolled her eyes and sighed. "Stupid bimbo…" She leaned over and snuggled into Sam's side.

Sam smiled and kissed the top of her head. "You're worth ten times what she is."

"It would be fun to string her up by that weave, though," Lyn said half musingly and half lamentingly that she wouldn't get to do it.

Dean laughed again. "It'd be fun to watch you do it, too."

Jordan looked up at Sam and smiled. She kissed him gently and cupped the side of his face in her hand.

Brittany walked up to the table and set down their orders, glaring at Jordan and Sam. "Can I get you anything _else_?"

Sam just smirked and tightened his grip around Jordan's waist. "Nah… I think I'm good."

Lyn totally ignored the others and snickered at Dean, grinning crookedly. "Watch me? You never told me you were a voyeurist, Dean."

"Oh, sweetheart, there are _a lot_ of things you don't know about me." He grinned and leered at her then looked up at Brittany. "Yeah, I've got all I need… right here."

Jordan smiled up at Sam and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Yeah, I think we're all good."

Lyn smirked and translated in a hissing whisper, "I think the general consensus is 'Get lost.'"

Brittany raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, whatever. Your loss." She turned on her heel, hair swishing and hips rocking back and forth as she walked away.

"Heh… stupid bitch," Jordan mumbled and smiled against Sam's neck, kissing him lightly.

"So feisty, Lyn." Dean grinned and nudged her shoulder with his before picking up a fork and digging into the food in front of him.

Lyn snickered and grabbed her own fork. "I never heard you complaining."

Sam chuckled and kissed Jordan back before pushing her food toward her. "Better eat that before Dean finishes his and decides you don't need it."

Lyn was just finishing her mashed potatoes when a strand of conversation from the bar caught her ear: "… and then he started keying up over me with his dog howling just to piss me off."

She looked over to see a pair of truckers with old farmer's co-op hats talking over a couple of plates of eggs. The one on the left raised bushy eyebrows and asked, "It wasn't that fool, Ramblin' Man, was it?"

"That's the one!" the other trucker exclaimed. "Yeah, I'd done and forgot until you said it, but that's him!"

"He's always keyin' up justa piss you off – would you believe he accused me of havin' AIDS the other night for no blame reason!"

Lyn choked on her sweet tea and nearly collapsed on the table laughing, trying and failing to muffle it behind her hand.

Jordan choked on the bite of food she had just put in her mouth. "… The crap is wrong with you, woman?!"

Dean looked from Lyn to Jordan, putting his fork down and his hand on Lyn's back. "Uh, Lyn…? You okay?"

Everyone within a four-table radius promptly turned to stare, including the two truckers who had been speaking. Lyn managed to stop laughing enough to meet Jordan's eyes and choke out, "You didn't hear that just now? About Ramblin' Man keying up over 'em with Gordita howling into the mic?"

Dean looked to Jordan questioningly to see that she had already begun laughing as hard as Lyn was, leaning into Sam's side and dropping her fork on her plate. "Uh… care to explain?"

"It's—Lyn's—dad!" Jordan managed to get out between bouts of laughter.

Sam stared. "Wh – not seriously?" he asked, looking at Lyn instead as for some bizarre reason he felt like laughing too. "Why the hell would your dad do that?"

"Because he's a crazy and immature old man," Lyn declared, still laughing.

"Wait, you're Ramblin' Man's little girl?" one of the truckers demanded. "Are you the one who tricked me into calling myself an old geezer in some other language about ten years ago?!"

Lyn snickered. "I'm my dad's only daughter, yeah. And hey, I was a crazy and immature fourteen-year-old, what can I say?"

Jordan gripped her stomach as she continued to laugh. "I remember that!" She began to lean precariously close to falling off the seat so she let herself fall back onto Sam.

"Okay, so your… dad is the guy that these truckers are talking about?" Dean asked Lyn.

"Yeah," Lyn admitted, still having to get her words out past laughing. "His handle is Ramblin' Man, y'know, from the Hank Williams song. And his pastime –"

"Is insulting honest, hard-working men," one of the truckers growled.

"Hey, my dad's as honest and hard-working as any of you!" Lyn shot back before a glint of mischief entered her eye and she started to laugh again. "Without him, who would make sure none of you fall asleep while you're driving, after all?"

Sam looked around edgily. "Uh, Lyn? You know we're in a truck stop… and the truckers really don't seem to be finding this as amusing as you and Jordan do… right?"

"They just need to listen up, that's all!" Jordan said, still unable to keep herself from laughing.

Dean noticed the glares that a lot of the truckers were starting to give the four of them. "Uh, guys, maybe Sam's right for once…"

"Oh, don't be such a bad sport," Lyn chortled but she very wisely decided to get up and be ready to leave anyway. "What, you can't take a disabled forty-four-year-old man annoying you every now and then?"

"Um, yeah, we should go now," Sam muttered, putting an arm around Jordan's waist to pull her up from the table.

"Aww… But things were just starting to get good," Jordan whined but allowed Sam to pull her up. She looked around at the many glaring truckers and looked up at Sam. "Okay, now you can carry me."

Dean, too, got up from the table, throwing two twenties down next to their plates as he did so.

"Well, at least we know Dad's still kicking," Lyn said, shaking her head and finally managing to stop laughing. "And stepping on people's last nerves." She snickered. "Guess everything's normal back home then."

"Yeah, what say we keep everything normal with us and get out of here?" Sam muttered as he tossed Jordan's crutches to Dean and picked her up to carry her back to the car.


End file.
